































































COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



















MARY S. WARE 

From a photograph taken in 1911 in Orange County, Va. 





A NEW WORLD 
THROUGH OLD EYES 

WITH 

REMINISCENCES FROM MY LIFE 


BY 

MARY S. WARE 

Author of “ The Old World Through Old Eyes” 




G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 
NEW YORK AND LONDON 

Ubc Iftnicfeerbocfeer press 

1923 


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Copyright, 1923 
by 

Mary S. Ware 


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Made in the United States of America 


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VAX 


JlIN 12 ’23 


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To 

My Dear Niece 

ELLEN W. SEARBY 

THE CONGENIAL COMPANION OF MY TRAVELS, 
WITHOUT WHOSE CARE AND GUIDANCE I 
COULD NEVER HAVE UNDERTAKEN 
THEM, THIS LITTLE BOOK IS 
GRATEFULLY DEDICATED 




PREFACE 


“Signor Nitti, who was recently Premier of Italy and 
in that capacity worked earnestly for a policy of modera¬ 
tion and reconciliation in Europe has written a book 
which will be published very shortly. It is entitled ‘The 
Decadence of Europe.’ The Manchester Guardian has 
made arrangements with the publishers of the English 
version, Messrs. T. Fisher Unwin, Limited, by which the 
most important passages will be published in advance in 
these columns. This book is dedicated by the author to 
his son and to all Italians who died ‘in the belief that they 
were fighting for the liberty of the peoples and for equal 
justice for conquerors and conquered.’ ” 


“Mr. Wilson’s solemn declarations promised equal 
treatment for victors and vanquished, but the treaties 
were the negations of the promises made, and the ap¬ 
plication of these treaties has been a continuous violation 
of the treaties themselves. If these violations had been of 
use to the victors they would have been explicable even 
if they could not have been justified. Great Britain after 
great efforts in the war has made the greatest efforts 
for peace, to her glory be it said! She has imposed upon 
herself tremendous sacrifices and accepted the severest 


V 


VI 


Preface 


taxes, perhaps, in Europe, but British industry is pros¬ 
trate while Europe sinks deeper into intellectual, moral, 
and economic decadence. Although the vanquished have 
been disarmed there are today more men under arms in 
Europe than before the war. Since the present peace by 
violence has not brought about a condition of vitality, a 
peace based on justice must be found in order to restore 
good will among the Nations. The sovereignty of each 
State should be respected and the absurd indemnities 
abandoned, which have lowered the moral tone of the 
victors and reflect on their intelligence. With the idea 
of making the vanquished pay, the Reparations Commis¬ 
sion began by voting its members enormous salaries. 
Men of no ability, who in their native lands were accus¬ 
tomed to earn only a fraction—an eighth or a tenth of 
the amounts they have voted themselves, now receive 
more than the Prime Ministers of their own countries. 
At the outset men of character and ability sat on this 
Commission, but these have mostly withdrawn and it now 
includes only men of extreme mediocrity, whose incom¬ 
petence is only surpassed by their cynicism. After the 
war all the vanquished countries were flooded with Com¬ 
missions of every imaginable kind, who spent enormous 
sums, often without even a decent pretext. The most 
voracious war profiteers, civilian and military, poured 
over the conquered countries, filled with a spirit of greed 
and violence, like a band of mercenaries, but the day will 
come when it will be considered a disgrace to have be¬ 
longed to those Commissions of plunder. Poor Austria 
has had a Commission imposed on her to ensure the ful- 


Preface 


Vll 


filment of military, naval and aeronautical conditions 
when she no longer has the power or the means for any¬ 
thing of the kind. In the occupied territories of Ger¬ 
many sixty school buildings have been seized and thou¬ 
sands of children turned out. Although expenditure, 
compared to the incredible extravagance of the earlier 
period of military occupation, has been reduced, yet at 
the end of March, 1922 it amounted to 5,536,954,542 
gold Marks. This sum represents the amount which Ger¬ 
many, with great sacrifices, could have paid as repara¬ 
tions (a gold Mark passes for a quarter of a dollar, but 
its purchasing power is far greater). The worst example 
is furnished by the Rhine Commission, which was to have 
consisted of four members, but has had a membership of 
1,300 persons, including seventy-five delegates claiming 
accommodation and allowances of brigadier generals. 
The families of German workmen, clerks and officials live 
on less than the pay of some of the private soldiers of the 
Allied armies of occupation. The Chancellor and all the 
Ministers of State of Germany together do not receive 
as much as two generals of the Entente. The inter-Allied 
Commission of Control completed its task in May, 1921, 
but the seven hundred and fifty-two officials have been 
reduced only to four hundred and fifty. The devastated 
territories of France could have been reconstructed with 
the money spent on these armies of occupation. Lord 
Newton, speaking in the House of Lords of the'inter- 
Allied Commissions in Germany, declared that the sight 
of those Commissions abandoning themselves to exces¬ 
sive luxury in the midst of a ruined people is one of the 


Preface 


• • • 

Vlll 

most repugnant spectacles that it is possible to imagine, 
but the moral decline of Europe is so great that nothing 
excites indignation any longer.’* 

The foregoing extracts have been culled by me from 
the first of these articles to appear in the “Manchester 
Guardian’s” weekly edition, December 22, 1922. The 
whole article is of extreme interest, as Signor Nitti, by 
his position and known high character, is worthy of entire 
confidence. 

Sewanee, 

January, 1923. 


A New World Through Old Eyes 
















A 

New World Through Old Eyes 


S. S. Columbia, 
March 29th, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

Laura and Dick were perfectly lovely to me in New 
York, and Livingston Morse gave me a book to read on 
board, which, as it represents my sentiments, and neither 
his nor Edna’s, I think was very magnanimous on his 
part. I am now convinced that had Mr. Hughes been 
elected in 1916 he would have given the world a League 
of Nations and his great opponent would have been 
spared for further services and further triumphs, while 
the fearful demoralization and suffering of these last 
years would have been avoided. Wilson’s success in 1916 
was in fact fatal to himself and to the world. Emily sent 
me a little book which proves to be an able defence of the 
Jews. It is not alone Jews, however, who need defense 
but our country as well, our American Democracy whose 
proud boast has been to offer freedom to every race and 
every creed. Mr. Ford is a noble soul led astray by de¬ 
signing or fanatical men, in either case equally dangerous. 

3 


4 


A New World 


Ever since I began to read history my sympathies have 
been enlisted for the Jews, and I cannot believe that any 
one whose heart is not seared by some form of fanatical 
hatred can read their story unmoved. Through ferocious 
bigotry and greed on the part of their enemies the birth 
of our Savior (a glory to His race and to humankind), 
became the greatest tragedy to the Jews that any people 
have ever borne. We Christians owe them a debt of 
Reparations which transcends in magnitude any Repara¬ 
tions indebtedness ever incurred on this earth. We judge 
every other race by its wisest and noblest men; we judge 
the Jews by the least worthy and most sordid among them. 
Yet they have produced such numbers of great men, men 
in whom moral and intellectual excellence are most hap¬ 
pily blended, for when the Jews are superior men where 
else do we find such broad vision and such disinterested 
benevolence? They have been a distinct asset in the 
public life of England (I do not think of Disraeli in this 
connection) where they have occupied the highest judicial 
posts. One is now in India working quietly and effec¬ 
tively to make good the errors and blunders of his pre¬ 
decessors. The Jews were the Kaiser’s wisest counsel¬ 
lors. Had he listened to them the world would most 
probably have been spared the agony of the great war. 
It is a truism of History that Spain, whose pre-eminence 
survived the expulsion of the Moors, sank into decadence 
when she banished the intelligence and genius for trade 
(the brains, in short) of her Jewish subjects. After some 
fitful struggles a pall of unruffled stagnation settled upon 
that land. What people, whether primitive or modern, 


5 


Through Old Eyes 

ever conceived a loftier ideal of religion than that of the 
old Hebrew prophet: “What doth the Lord require of 
thee, but to do justice, and to love mercy, and to walk 
humbly with thy God.” It is very possible that posterity 
may pronounce Einstein the greatest intellect ever born 
on this planet. 

April ad, 1921. 

I fear I bored you stiff about the Jews, but when any 
person, or group of persons, is unjustly attacked, or we 
believe that such has been the case, all good citizens should 
feel that they, too, have been attacked in their rights 
and privileges. This is a homely morality, but better than 
any Magna Charta for free men. 

A young Englishman on board told me that on one 
occasion Mrs. Asquith entered a railway compartment in 
which he sat. She began by saying she had no money 
and borrowed from the guard to pay the porter. Then 
she unfolded a newspaper, looked it over and threw it 
contemptuously to the other end of the compartment. 
Her manners, he said, were so rude that he concluded she 
was mentally unbalanced. I read yesterday in the wireless 
that there were uprisings in the American Zone of Occu¬ 
pation on the Rhine. There can be no victory without 
arrogance. It was this which destroyed the Germans, 
and it is inevitable that an army of occupation should 
be exceedingly irritating to the conquered. Each nation 
should keep its soldiers at home, and have as few as 
possible. 

There is a gentle, kindly lady from Belfast who came 
to see me in my room and I fear I have hurt her feelings, 


6 


A New World 


which I deeply regret. It is instinctive with me to believe 
that the Creator is pleased with any moral excellence to 
which His earthly children may attain, but I cannot be¬ 
lieve He busies Himself with their discomforts, or physi¬ 
cal ailments, or with the fluctuations of their worldly 
fortunes. This she could not understand and when we 
spoke of immortality and I said: “I have never done any¬ 
thing, nor can I ever hope to do anything which would 
render me worthy of immortality; I cannot even conceive 
of felicity without striving toward some commendable 
end, without a development of the faculties which the 
Creator has given us,” she was deeply shocked. 


Belfast, 
April, 7th, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

I came very near arriving in Londonderry in the midst 
of fighting. Nothing but the fogs, which delayed our 
ship twenty-four hours, saved me from this exciting ex¬ 
perience. There was sniping from the roofs of houses 
and wire entanglements in the streets as late as Sunday 
morning, the time we should have arrived. I read the 
lists of killed and wounded in the Sinn Fein paper. I 
found the little Hotel, where I waited for the Belfast 
train, a nest of Sinn Feiners. It was quite cold and I 
lay on a sofa in front of the fire while the host, his wife 
and a young man, poured out the wrongs of Ireland to 
me. I agreed that the Irish had a right to independence 
if they so desired, for geographically France is nearer to 
England, and Ireland has the same strip of blue sea of 
which England is so proud. I pointed out, however, the 


7 


Through Old Eyes 

great advantages of a connection with the British Empire. 
But hatred blinds even to self-interest, and it is unfor¬ 
tunately true that governing other races breeds an intoler¬ 
able arrogance in the alien rulers, so that the good they 
do is poisoned by the humiliations they inflict. The 
young man exclaimed passionately: “This is a religious 
war.” Now I think that Mohammedans alone have a 
sanction for religious wars, for they are expressly en¬ 
joined by their prophet to wars of extermination till 
the unbelievers are converted or pay tribute. The atroci¬ 
ties perpetrated in Ireland resemble the methods of Turks 
and not those of Christians. A wholesome skepticism 
would do this country more good than anything else. It 
would soften their political and religious fanaticisms 
which are urging them now, like the devils in the Gada- 
rene swine, to headlong destruction. 

The hostess kissed me affectionately when I left the 
little Hotel, so I can hope they bore me no rancor for my 
plain talk. 

I did not send a telegram to announce my arrival to 
the Morwoods for fear of interfering with some pre¬ 
vious engagement, so I was fortunate in finding them all 
at home, as I drove up in the late afternoon of an almost 
cloudless day. My welcome was as wholehearted as I 
could possibly have desired. The children are as dear 
and lovely as ever, all much grown, Elizabeth, William 
and James easily recognizable. I left Mary a baby in 
1915, and found her a most fascinating little creature, 
very intelligent too. John, the youngest, I had never 
seen. Mrs. Morwood looks no older than when I left 


8 


A New World 

her in India. The years sit lightly on both husband and 
wife. The Colonel takes entire charge of his grounds, 
the vegetable garden at the back and the lawn and flower 
beds in front. As he had such hordes of servants at his 
command in India, this total change of habits seems very 
admirable to me. Another change in him is, I think, even 
more remarkable. After so many years passed in India, 
where drinking among Englishmen is so common, he has 
given it up entirely here. All this inspires me with an 
immense respect for him. The house is beautiful and 
beautifully furnished. It is situated in Malone Park, one 
of the most desirable residence quarters in Belfast. These 
Ulster people are dead set against a union with the South 
of Ireland. They are afraid of excessive taxation and of 
papal rule. I do not think these fears are justified, be¬ 
cause they can make their own terms with the South and 
because it will not be to the interest of that section to 
alienate Ulster. With peace the advantages of the Union 
and the economic interests it fosters, will be more and 
more appreciated. I do not venture to express my senti¬ 
ments as freely in Belfast as I did in Londonderry. With 
Ireland rent by civil strife and labor troubles in England 
I feel truly sorry for the British people. They certainly 
have a burden to bear. Our servants are Protestant, they 
are very quiet, call Colonel Morwood and his wife “the 
Master and the Mistress” and the boys “Master William 
and Master James.” They are good-looking young girls 
and hard-working. The cook came into my room this 
morning to say, with very red cheeks, that I should not 
send her money each week, that she served me because it 



9 


Through Old Eyes 

was a pleasure to do so, and she only wished I would stay 
here all the time. I was genuinely touched by such dis¬ 
interestedness and could only reply that it gave me much 
pleasure to be served by two such loyal friends. 

Belfast, 
April 18, 1921. 

The weather has turned very cold, high winds with 
snow and hail. Mrs. Morwood gave her third reception 
yesterday. At these receptions no one ever mentions the 
Sinn Feiners, yet I can see from the papers how serious 
the situation is. 


April 24, 1921. 

Last Thursday Mr. Rogan came for us in his car, and 
we took Elizabeth and little Mary with us. We had a 
beautiful drive through a series of parks to their country 
house which is charming. I never saw anywhere such 
tulips. They pulled four for me which I thought almost 
a crime. There were delicious refreshments but I took 
only a small glass of port wine. As I have lived so con¬ 
scientiously under prohibition I had not the courage to 
drink my wine like the others, but absorbed it in tiny sips. 
On our return Mr. Rogan asked what drive we should 
like to take, and Colonel Morwood suggested the town of 
Lisburn, which is called a suburb, although it is several 
miles from Belfast. Last September at Lisburn a police¬ 
man was murdered in a particularly brutal way, and as 
usual the murderers escaped, but the townspeople arose in 
mobs, Protestant and Catholic, and set fire to each others’ 
houses. The damage is estimated at one hundred and 


IO 


A New World 


fifty thousand pounds. We had just arrived in the de¬ 
vastated area when two constables stopped us. We did 
not know that there is an ordinance forbidding cars to 
be out after eight in the evening without special permit. 
After the two men and Mr. Rogan had talked for half an 
hour I got very impatient. It was evident that the police 
after our arrest didn’t know what to do with us. I 
wanted our kind host to return to his family who would 
be very uneasy in these unsettled times, when men just as 
innocent are shot and blown up with bombs daily. The 
morning papers are filled with these crimes. At length 
I said to Mrs. Morwood that I was going to beckon to 
one of the constables to come and speak to me. She and 
Elizabeth were alarmed at this and urged me not to do 
so. I waited a while but at last I beckoned to one of the 
men without asking leave. He came to my side of the car 
and pulled down the window sash. I knew from my 
experience in Londonderry that the plain people of Ire¬ 
land have great respect for the American name. I also 
knew from experience everywhere (at least in many parts 
of the world) that men can stand very little talk from an 
old woman without becoming fearfully bored, with the 
resultant irrepressible desire to escape. So I told the man 
that I was an American on a three weeks’ visit to Colonel 
Morwood’s family, who had entertained me much in 
India, that I was leaving on the following Monday for 
France, that Mr. Rogan, in the goodness of his heart, was 
giving me a drive to show me the devastated region of 
Lisburn, that I might write home about it. I answered 
all his questions and could have told him lots more, but 


II 


Through Old Eyes 

he waved his hand for us to move on, which I almost re¬ 
gretted. Now Colonel Morwood spoils my story by 
claiming that the policemen were influenced by hearing 
that he was a medical man, but I know that I deserve all 
the credit. We were all tired, I particularly so, as I had 
eaten nothing since an early luncheon and it was nine 
o’clock. 

I think the British Empire would be stronger without 
Ireland. How much these conditions are lowering the 
prestige of England, and now they are undermining her 
influence in the Council of Nations! It is a running sore 
and an ugly one. We all know that Ulster is the stum¬ 
bling-block, but we all know too that when Ireland would 
have been grateful for far less than she now demands, it 
was systematically and persistently refused her. Still I 
am always pro-British and feel sure that the right course 
will yet be found and adopted. I do not agree that our 
War of Secession offers a parallel. We were a sufficiently 
homogeneous people. Lincoln, no doubt, was fighting 
primarily to preserve the Union, but the South was 
fighting to preserve slavery. Just fancy the mess we 
should have made of things had we succeeded, with the 
whole world set against slavery, a dying institution, and 
we bound to it, and all the fatal results of a false course 
once taken. What allies we should have had! Mexico 
perhaps, marching with us in some possible combination 
against the North, or a fellow group of states. What a 
sickening thought when we now have a country whose 
name alone carries authority throughout the whole world. 

A poor, hard-working woman, Kitty Carroll, has just 


12 


A New World 


been shot because she warned the police of the sale of un¬ 
licensed whiskey. The Sir Arthur Vickers murder was 
a dastardly crime. 

Mrs. Morwood continues to give afternoon teas. The 
curfew law makes this form of entertainment popular. 
The days are long and people want to be in their homes by 
dark. Yesterday afternoon we had a delightful party 
here. I am charmed with the Kents. He is our Ameri¬ 
can Consul. Mrs. Kent took me in her motor Friday to 
Cook’s to get my tickets. Cook delayed us very much and 
then he wouldn’t accept a check I had on London, so we 
had to be driven to Mrs. Morwood’s bank. The Presi¬ 
dent of this bank was very polite and full of humor too. 
I complimented him on his acumen in discovering that I 
was an American, which amused him I thought, too 
much, so I informed him that I had been taken for an 
Englishwoman on one proud occasion, but that I had not 
been able to live up to this high record. The Kents were 
here yesterday afternoon. There were twelve guests. 
At these tea-parties we go into the dining-room and are 
seated at table, but on leaving it the men remain to smoke 
while the ladies return to the drawing-room. Now at 
each of these parties, as soon as the ladies are all gathered 
together, Mrs. Morwood calls on me for anecdotes of my 
grandchildren. I am really mortally afraid of boring 
people. But Mrs. Morwood will have her way, and I 
have to launch out on a rather perilous sea, for few per¬ 
sons are so deeply interested in other people’s grand¬ 
children as to come from the far corners of Belfast to 
hear about them. The curious thing is that on these occa- 


13 


Through Old Eyes 

sions no mention is made of the assassinations, destruc¬ 
tion of property, the daily rounds of armored cars, of 
policemen standing in couples at unexpected places, or 
seated in the street-cars dressed in citizens’ clothes, but 
with ominous indications of being well armed. One 
never speaks of all this unless I introduce the topic, so 
perhaps Mrs. Morwood wants to get me off of a danger- 
our theme and insists on the grandchildren anecdotes. 
Yesterday afternoon, with some very elegant ladies 
present, I tried vainly to escape inflicting this ordeal on 
them, but Mrs. Morwood was so insistent that she had 
every one at last on her side and I had to yield. Being a 
truthful person (as truth is understood in this sinful 
world) I do not like to embroider facts, besides Mrs. 
Morwood and Elizabeth would detect immediately any 
departure from the strictly historical narrative, so that 
recourse was cut off and I had to go through with it. 
Of course the guests had never heard the oft-told tales. 
Colonel Morwood has reached the limit of his patience, 
as you can well imagine, being but a man, (but he was 
peacefully smoking in the dining-room). In short I did 
the best I could and ended, not without some encourage¬ 
ment. 

April 25th. 

The Rogans came in to see us last night. His car had 
been held up the evening before by a great crowd near 
the General Post Office where two policemen had just 
been murdered and two civilians accidentally shot. Be¬ 
sides these crimes two young men were murdered in their 
homes; all this during one night in Belfast. I cannot see 


14 


A New World 


how, in any near future, the Irish will be able to return 
to a law-abiding and peaceful existence. I read of much 
suffering among the striking miners of England. Some 
of them wrote a most pathetic letter to the Prince of 
Wales in which it was asserted that they, men with fami¬ 
lies, had been offered what it costs to maintain one pauper 
in the Work House, and many of them lost sons in the 
war, or received them back cripples. 

London, 
April 26 , 1921. 

On leaving the Morwoods I was much touched by the 
maids, Minnie and Lizzie, who presented me with two 
fine linen handkerchiefs, neatly embroidered, and much 
finer than I should have bought for myself. What warm 
hearts these Irish have! 

Mrs. Morwood says that everybody in Belfast goes to 
church every Sunday so that the churches are much 
crowded, but I fear that too much hatred fills the hearts 
of both Protestant and Catholic. Mr. Kent told me he 
was U. S. Consul in Leipsic when the war broke out. I 
asked: “When the first news of it came what happened 
in the city?” “There was a procession of socialists to 
protest against the war,” he answered. “This was sup¬ 
pressed.” Those socialists knew more of the misery and 
horror of war than the Kaiser and all his satellites. They 
knew too that the principal victims would be the workers 
in field and factory. 

Of all the hostesses who have ever entertained me Mrs. 
Morwood shines as one of the most charming and most 
tactful. 


Through Old Eyes 


15 


Versailles, 
April 29th, 1921. 

At the Paris station I put my head out of the window 
and saw a young person who had the look of John Ware, 
but I was not sure, for he was far off. When he caught 
sight of me he sprang forward at such a gallop that I 
recognized the running of my own grand-son. We took 
a taxi to the Invalides, where the electric for Versailles 
starts. Sedley was waiting for us. The Toulmins had 
arrived that same afternoon, and Sedley of course went to 
meet them and take them to the hotel where he had en¬ 
gaged a room, with which they were much pleased as 
they had a private bath. They were delighted with all 
his arrangements and begged him to stay and take a cham¬ 
pagne supper with them, but he left them to escort me 
home. 

I was charmed with the appearance of my children. 
The little girls I can still call “my beauties.” John and 
Pete are fine. I found Alice Searby and Hallie Porter 
here. The former looks prettier than I have ever seen 
her. She has acquired, too, much ease and grace of man¬ 
ner. My bedroom is on the ground floor. They all tell 
me that the day I arrived was the first warm Spring day 
they had had. Yesterday Sedley and Alice Ware went 
to show the Toulmins around Paris. Sedley says he 
never saw people more appreciative of the wonderful 
beauties of Paris. Today the Wares and the Toulmins 
have gone on a picnic to Malmaison. Alice Ware had 
a rolling-chair ready for me, so yesterday I got into it 
with Pete and Mary as chairmen. They began by push- 


i6 


A New World 


ing me up a very long and very steep hill. I thought 
there must be a most remarkable view at the top and felt 
extremely grateful to them for taking so much trouble 
for their old grand-mother. But no sooner were we at 
the top of the hill than they turned a sharp corner and 
began the descent. We flew so fast I thought I should 
lose my head as well as my bonnet. I implored them to 
go slowly, but they assured me there was not the slightest 
danger. I was not only afraid for myself but for the 
chair, which I thought would be jolted to fragments. 
Pete said it could be easily mended, things couldn’t be 
expected to last forever, that it was infinitely more amus¬ 
ing for him and Mary to go fast than to creep stupidly 
along. I realized this fully, but after all I had not ex¬ 
pected to enter a racing contest, but had hoped for a 
pleasant promenade, during which I could converse with 
my grand-children. Perhaps the jolting did me good, 
but the wires in my bonnet hurt my head dreadfully. Be¬ 
fore I go again I shall have an explicit understanding 
with my motor power. I felt yesterday that Mazeppa 
was not more helpless on his wild steed than I, tearing 
down that long hill at such vertiginous speed. 

May first. 

It is hard to write when my room is the family resort. 
Yesterday Sedley took me in the rolling-chair to the 
Chateau. I never enjoyed that wonderful garden so 
much; the long overarching avenues of chestnut trees 
with the April sun shining through the young leaves, 
were enchanting. Sedley insists that the exercise of push- 


17 


Through Old Eyes 

ing the chair is just what he needs, so I saw all that 
Spring beauty and the play of the fountains with great 
comfort. Madeline has been taking the two little girls 
in to Paris when visiting her step-mother. You know 
step-mother is “bellemere” in French. Well, Belle- 
mere has taken a great fancy to the children, and over¬ 
whelms them with attentions. The last time they were 
there little Alice was so enthusiastic about the visit that 
on her return she said to her mother: “I want a ‘belle- 
mere’ and you must tell me how to get one.” You may 
imagine her mother threw cold water on this project. 
Martha and P. T. came out today to luncheon and the 
evening meal. They, Sedley and Alice Ware are off now 
to the Chateau. 


Versailles, 

May 9, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

It has been decided to put Mary in a boarding-school 
in Switzerland, near Lausanne. Mrs. Kent in Belfast 
recommended this school to me; her daughter is there. 
When I first mentioned it to Alice Ware she said she did 
not wish her children separated, and Mary wanted to go 
home with the others. So I considered the question 
settled. But Mrs. Kent had written to the principal, and 
she wrote Alice a nice letter. The afternoon this letter 
arrived Madeline had taken Mary and Elizabeth to Paris 
to the theatre. On coming out the children slipped pen¬ 
nies in a fortune-telling machine. Mary’s slip of paper 
said that she was soon to receive a letter which would 
influence her future very seriously. Elizabeth’s paper 


i8 


A New World 


was far from complimentary. It accused her of want of 
discretion and told her all her troubles were caused by 
this fault. When the children returned Alice Ware 
handed Mary the letter. The child stood silent with 
amazement. Already the “fortune” was coming true. 
She had not dreamed of going to this boarding-school, but 
she took the letter as a decree of fate and as such accepted 
it with what resignation and fortitude she could com¬ 
mand. She is now growing more reconciled to the idea 
and even begins to take pleasure in it. Poor Elizabeth 
was greatly struck with Mary’s experience, and when I 
tried to tease her about her paper she was ready to weep, 
so I dropped the subject. Not yet ten years of age and 
already mourning her lack of discretion! I do not think 
fortune telling should be countenanced for the super¬ 
stitious immediately bend their energies to accomplish such 
predictions. In this case, however, it suited us entirely. 

Ned Searby comes every Sunday from Fontainebleau 
to lunch and passes the greater part of the day with us. 
He says his French comrades in the artillery school are 
very cultivated men. The thought seized him one day 
that every girl clerk in the shops seemed more cultivated 
than he. Thereupon he went to work in dead earnest all 
the time he could spare from his artillery studies. He 
took up French literature, history, classic as well as 
modern plays, and is improving himself wonderfully. 
He speaks French quite well already. Pete takes me in 
the rolling-chair for long excursions often through the 
Chateau gardens which are extremely lovely. Once he 
took me to the “Petit” and the “Grand” Trianon, where 


19 


Through Old Eyes 

we fed the fishes. But I cannot endure the fatigue of 
going over buildings. In Spring nature is so beautiful 
I prefer it to art. Yesterday being Sunday the Toulmins 
came to dinner and supper. Mr. Toulmin always brings 
two bottles of champagne and Sedley buys two bottles of 
Sauterne, so at dinner we have a fine display of wit, wine 
and merriment. Four bottles, however, are not a large 
quantity for a family of fourteen. Yesterday was the 
fete of Jeanne d’Arc which was commemorated for the 
first time, but henceforth it will rank second only to the 
14th July. We all went to the gardens to see the foun¬ 
tains. Those of Neptune are the most beautiful and the 
grandest in the world, I think. 


May 16, 1921. 

On Friday Sedley, Alice Ware, Alice Searby and I 
went in to Paris to take tea with Cousin Letitia Sands. 
Cousin Letitia has the most perfect manners, and made 
us all feel very welcome and at home. Saturday Mme. 
Lalaurette came to luncheon. She had great trouble find¬ 
ing our house, as does everybody else, on account of the 
changes in the names of the streets. She took the slow 
train, too, so I had to wait for her nearly two hours. I 
was in my rolling-chair, but I had to be very entertaining 
to Pete, who was hungry and restive, also skeptical as to 
Mme. Lalaurette’s coming. But she did come, and I 
was so glad I waited. All were delighted with her beauty. 
She was dressed with great elegance and looked radiant 
with her large dark eyes, her hair which has a pretty wave, 
her very fine teeth and healthy color. All were also 


20 


A New World 


charmed with her simple grace and sincerity. M. Lalau- 
rette is now one of the French Residents in Cambodia, 
and although his state of health requires repose the Resi¬ 
dence is generally filled with tourists, en route to the 
ruins. There is no hotel and distinguished visitors ex¬ 
pect to be entertained. M. Lalaurette has not yet recovered 
from his war experiences. He wrote me of being 
wounded when a great shell dropped into a group of 
officers, doing fearful execution among them. 

Sunday, yesterday, the Toulmins came with bottles of 
fine champagne, as usual. I had disapproved of this ex¬ 
travagance, but yesterday I was glad of it because Sedley 
had asked M. Miliukoff to our Sunday dinner. Martha 
was greatly rejoiced to hear she was to see him at last. 
At dinner she told him that whenever she related her 
Russian experiences she always ended by saying: “And 
I came very near seeing M. Miliukoff!” This amused him 
greatly. I told him I had two other nieces who had 
waited thirteen years to meet him. He asked, “Where are 
they?” I answered, “One in New Orleans, the other in 
Virginia.” He said he would try to meet them when he 
returned to America. I told him of our visit to the Duma 
in 1908, and he asked the same question that the German 
delegate did in the St. Petersburg tramway, and I gave 
the same answer: “These young girls wanted to boast 
when they returned to America, that they were present at 
a session of the Duma.” And I added that Americans 
had taken much interest in that first attempt at constitu¬ 
tional government in Russia. After dinner we had many 
questions to put to him, Martha and I especially, which 


21 


Through Old Eyes 

he answered very good-naturedly. In the case of Poland 
he is more in favour of Lloyd George’s attitude than that 
of France. He says French politics in Poland are calcu¬ 
lated to estrange the Poles from both Russia and Ger¬ 
many—that is, to make enemies of two peoples which are 
bound to be very powerful in the future. I asked if 
Lenin would shoot him were he to return to Russia. He 
answered without hesitation, “Certainly, if I did not bind 
myself to serve him.” I said I had read that in the Polish 
insurrection of 1863 Alexander the Second had confis¬ 
cated the estates of the Polish nobles and had divided 
them among the peasants, thus producing great pros¬ 
perity in that part of Poland. He told me that Alexan¬ 
der had done this very partially. He had conferred the 
great estates on Russians and on his bureaucrats, the 
peasants getting but a small part. I asked if he were 
in favor of England and the United States making trea¬ 
ties of trade and peace with the Bolsheviki. He in turn 
asked me if I had read Hughes’ report on that subject. 
I said yes, that I found it logical and strongly written, 
but I did not agree with him. He asked why, I said 
human beings are not governed by logic, they are very 
illogical, and we should not punish a whole people for 
the sins of their rulers, that the best way to promote trade 
was to permit it, and the best way of overthrowing an 
impossible government like Bolshevism, was through 
trade. Besides, I added, Lenin has never ceased to as¬ 
sert that all Bolshevist failures in Russia came from the 
blockade, and to let down the bars would disprove this 
assertion. He then explained the status of Russian par- 


22 


A New World 


ties, but into that labyrinth I shall not go. He said the 
influence of the Tzarina had been fatal to the Tzar. The 
Russians had believed that a granddaughter of the Eng¬ 
lish Queen would counsel democratic concessions, but the 
Tzarina was more imperial than her husband. M. 
Miliukoff, too, had trouble in finding our house and was 
late for luncheon. The French change the names of their 
streets pretty often. That ought not to remind me of the 
little cemetery at Zermatt, but it does. While visiting 
Zermatt some years ago, I strolled into that little ceme¬ 
tery. The sextons were vacating all the graves. The 
poor bones were loaded into a wheelbarrow, and trundled 
off to a little shed, falling along the route in the path 
of the wheelbarrow. They were making way for new 
occupants, and everybody understood the necessity, and 
everybody was satisfied. But changing the names of 
streets produces annoyance. This Avenue du Marechal 
Petain was formerly Kronstadt. The street leading into 
it is now General Foch and there are many other changes. 
The cab drivers won’t take the trouble to inform them¬ 
selves, which leads to great confusion. We shall soon 
move to 3 rue de Fleurus, Paris, which street keeps its 
old name. 

Yesterday Madeline returned to Paris with our guests 
to spend the night with Bellemere. The Toulmins 
bought first-class tickets, Madeline and M. Miliukoff, 
second class. But they were put in the first, and had a 
lively conversation the whole way. At Paris the Toulmins 
took a taxi. Mr. M. turned to Madeline and asked: 
“Where do you go?” She: “To Montparnasse.” He: 


23 


Through Old Eyes 

“So do I.” She: “I take the subway.” He: “So do I.” 
Arrived at Montparnasse, he asked: “Where do you 
go now ?” She: “I have a transfer for Belfort.” He: 
“So have I.” At Belfort he asked : “Where do you live?” 
“At 54, rue St. Jacques.” He: “So do I.” “Do you 
walk or take a taxi?” “I walk.” “So do I.” In short 
he lives with his wife and grown son in the same house 
with Bellemere! M. Miliukoff edits a Russian paper for 
the emigres, and adds to his income by giving lectures. 

Ned came out to dinner yesterday with Alice, who has 
been staying in town with the Hunts. Alice has been 
doing too much and had temperature yesterday. Last 
night I went upstairs to see her, for I think I can 
massage better than anyone else. At the top of the steps 
the children gathered around me and said I should not 
walk up the second flight. I had thought Alice was only 
one flight up. John, Pete, Mary, even Elizabeth and 
little Alice, all undertook to push me into a heavy up¬ 
holstered chair in which to carry me up the steps. I had 
much difficulty in freeing and throwing myself on a 
heavy chest which they could not move. From this point 
of vantage I lectured them about taking care of their 
health and strength, and told them that a badly-strained 
back could never be mended. I believe I convinced them, 
as I had terrible incidents to relate, and I added that if 
one of them were injured in serving me it would make 
my last years very miserable and would hasten my end. 
The children never looked so beautiful to me, the little 
girls freshly bathed for bed and the boys so eager to carry 
Granny upstairs. I told them that when I took my time 


24 A New World 

and had no one to hurry me, I got upstairs very well 
indeed. 


May 23d. 

Yesterday afternoon Sedley and I accepted an invita¬ 
tion to a tea at the home of M. Rene Vallery-Radot. I 
went in the rolling-chair. They live in an elegant house 
near the Chateau. We found quite a company gathered, 
no introductions, but M. Radot talked a good deal with 
us. He took us over the big reception rooms and showed 
us all the portraits and busts of the famous Pasteur. 
Madame Vallery-Radot is a daughter of Pasteur and is 
strikingly like him. We discussed Pasteur’s genius, the 
great things he accomplished and his character, the most 
salient traits of which were his modesty and goodness. I 
said I felt sure that France would consecrate a day to his 
memory like the one just celebrated of Jeanne d’Arc, that 
governments were forced to wait till all contemporary 
rivalries had been extinguished by death, or otherwise, 
before granting posthumous honors. M. V-R told me 
an anecdote of Pasteur when he went to the Queen’s jubi¬ 
lee. He was requested to permit himself to be introduced 
to the Crown Prince Frederick of Germany. He begged 
to be excused, but the Crown Prince came forward, and 
with the tact and kindly feeling for which he was dis¬ 
tinguished, the introduction took place. M. V-R agreed 
with me about the good heart of this Prussian prince. 
I spoke of the docility of the German masses, to show 
that they too were victims in the world war, which horri¬ 
fied Sedley. He does not agree with me, and wanted that 


25 


Through Old Eyes 

subject avoided. In the elegant suite of rooms were 
many costly and interesting gifts made to Pasteur by all 
classes of society, Crowned Heads and peasants alike. 
Those of the latter were paid for by innumerable sub¬ 
scriptions of ten centimes each. 

Plallie has taken Alice Searby to the American Hospital 
at Neuilly for a complete rest. The French think it so 
strange that Americans put their wives and daughters in 
hospitals, a thing never done in France, they assure me. 
But I reply that American hospitals are built for that pur¬ 
pose, and that the Neuilly one is ideal. 

It is a pity we must leave Versailles just now when 
everything is so beautiful. Every garden is filled with 
nightingales. I regret too a little girl who plays with our 
children. Her name is Jacqueline and she is seven years 
old, is pretty and has charming manners. Her father is 
an architect. You will be surprised to hear of the use¬ 
fulness of an architect in this country. Sedley thought 
one of his plumbing bills was exorbitant. Someone said: 
“Why do you not take it to the architect just across the 
street?” That was something new and worth a trial. 
The bill was reduced by one hundred francs. Had Sed¬ 
ley employed this architect at first the work would have 
been much better done. Sedley had been begging Alice 
to go with him to call on this family, but she is always so 
busy. I knew it was not my place to represent the lady 
of the house, but in answer to Alice’s appeal, I went with 
Sedley yesterday evening and we had a charming visit. 
Of course you know the latest comer makes the first call 
here. I praised little Jacqueline to her mother and Sedley 


26 A New World 

heard war experiences from the architect, who served 
through the war. 

May 30th. 

This is my last letter from this beautiful little town of 
villas. The trunks go today and the family tomorrow, 
except Sedley and Alice. They will have to remain a day 
longer for the inventory. No house is rented out in this 
country without an exhaustive inventory embracing the 
most trivial articles, such as small pen-wipers, pin¬ 
cushions, and the like. On giving up the house every¬ 
thing has to be accounted for. 

We shall not live as well in Hotel Fleurus as here. 
Cook Marie is very skilful. She buys the best meat in 
the market but not a morsel is wasted, for she makes it 
over into something tempting. We have a Jewish family 
living near us who have an only child. He loves to play 
with our children, but a few days ago he told them that 
all Protestants were pagans. Perhaps he got this idea 
from some ignorant servant. It hurt the two little girls 
very much but their humiliation was not complete until 
a few days later when Madeline took them to see the pro¬ 
cession of the first communion children. On their way 
they passed Aunt Hallie who was about to take the street 
car. She called out, “Are the little pagans going to see 
the French children on their way to their first commun¬ 
ion?” The children were deeply mortified. Elizabeth 
said to Madeline: “Now all the people who heard what 
Aunt Hallie said will always believe that we are pagans.” 
They were tremendously impressed with the beautiful 


27 


Through Old Eyes 

dresses of the little girls, in snowy white from head to 
foot, and with all that Madeline told them about the 
sumptuous dinners awaiting them at home. Madeline 
says the fete of the first communion is the most important 
event in the child’s life here. For weeks beforehand the 
dressmakers are kept busy making costly toilettes for the 
mothers and all the female members of the family. All 
the seats in the churches are reserved for these families, 
and the beauty and elegance of the toilettes are worth 
seeing. Wealthy ladies take special pleasure in fitting out 
the children of the poor for this occasion. Alice Ware 
had been noticing for some weeks ladies of the upper 
classes accompanying girls of the very poor to Paris and 
did not understand until Madeline explained. Every 
article must be new and snowy white. When the children 
returned from the procession they were not in an enviable 
state of mind. Little Alice said: “I want to take that 
first communion too.” They refused to understand why 
they should be excluded from all that feasting and glory, 
but Cook Marie, mindful of the sacred character of the 
day, rightly judged that the occasion demanded a feast, 
so she had prepared a delicious luncheon with a fine 
cake in addition to our usual dessert. The little girls felt 
in a measure consoled, but “pagans” remained a bitter 
memory still. 

Madeline’s bellemere spent a whole day with us last 
week. She says she hears the most beautiful music com¬ 
ing from the apartment of the Miliukoffs, who have a 
grown son living with them. I shall invite them to 
luncheon when we go to rue Fleurus. Alas! the food will 


28 


A New World 


not compare to that which Marie gives us. When I was 
alone the other day Marie came to my room, and I asked 
her to tell me of the entry of the first French troops into 
Strasburg. Marie is Alsatian. I had read about it at the 
time, but I was much more touched at Marie’s account. 
She said: “I could not cry ‘Vive la France.’ I tried to 
but the words would not come out of my throat. I 
thought all the time of the poor old soldiers of France 
who fought through that other war, all now in their 
graves, and I wanted so much to see those graves open 
so that those poor old defeated soldiers could witness that 
day of restitution; and so I cried all the time over those 
thoughts.” She seemed to be genuinely sorry for many 
of the German families. She saw the wives in deep grief, 
saying they knew not where to go after so many years 
in Alsace. I could not help saying: “The French passed 
through this bitterness in 1871.” Yet one cannot help 
feeling pity for all the innocent who suffer, as no doubt 
many did in the territories taken back. 

Ned Searby appreciates very keenly all the advantages 
our Government is giving him over here. He says the 
French are ahead of all other nations in the art of war. 
I tell him I take no interest in the art of war. I expect 
the League of Nations to keep the world at peace, and I 
think, considering its state of infancy, it has functioned 
remarkably well, especially as the United States has 
played the role of malevolent fairy at the christening. 
Ned’s one fear is that he may have to be sent back to the 
United States, to “God’s Own Country.” 


Through Old Eyes 


29 


RUE DE FLEURUS, PARIS. 

June 6, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

All the Wares moved into this hotel last Tuesday ex¬ 
cept Sedley and Alice who remained for the inventory. I 
had heard more than once of a French inventory, but I 
always discount so heavily for exaggeration that I now 
and then get “picked up,” but not so often as to dis¬ 
courage me in this habit of mind. I remember in Seville 
when I went to my first bull fight I had refused to be¬ 
lieve what people told me about it, and there I grossly 
deceived myself. In the case of the inventory it was 
simply a test of physical endurance, and of patience under 
great injustice. Sedley did not rent directly from the 
owner. He had a sublease. There were two agents, one 
representing the owner, and the other the lessee. There 
was also a woman, who may have been a volunteer, with 
Argus eyes for slight defects. For example, two vases 
had been locked up and never brought out except for this 
inventory. Yet she discovered a colored line under the 
base of one of them which was set down as a serious 
injury. Each pillow, mattress and piece of covering was 
subjected to the same rigorous scrutiny and every stain 
of years’ standing put to the debit account. Two hours 
were spent in the pantry, and fine china which had never 
been touched, never taken out of its cabinet, was exam¬ 
ined in the same manner, and all old chips and cracks and 
stains set down against the Wares. Sedley showed them 
all the bills he had paid. More than three hundred francs 
for kitchen utensils, with various plumbing bills, others 


3» 


A New World 


for bedding and furniture, which had disappeared, to the 
surprise of the Wares, and which were doubtless stored 
safely with the missing cooking utensils in the sunny 
room, the loss of which was also an unpleasant surprise. 
Nothing was allowed on any of these bills. No credit 
side in their book-keeping. The idea of the two agents 
would appear to be to reimburse their employers for their 
salaries, and in the case of the lessee to increase materially 
his rent. I presume the woman gets a reward as her 
activities were very remunerative. Sedley and Alice did 
not get to Paris till ten o’clock that night, exhausted by 
their long and trying day. When they had finished the 
recital of their trials, I asked Sedley what he would have 
to pay. He said he didn’t know, but added: “I wouldn't 
take anything for the experience.” This was said, how¬ 
ever, with such a tortured expression of countenance that 
one would have thought he was swallowing something 
extremely repugnant. 

I enjoyed my rolling-chair so much in Versailles that I 
rented another here. The family take turns in rolling me 
about the Luxembourg Gardens which lie at our door. 
They are very big and beautiful and are continued by the 
long avenues of the Observatory. Yesterday our family 
went in the afternoon to Sevres to attend one of Tom’s 
concerts. I met two lovely Scotch girls from Kashmir. 
The father of one is British Resident at Srinagar. Both 
girls have fresh and charming voices. When I compli¬ 
mented any of the singers they always answered: “It is 
due to M. d’Aubigne’s method. He is such a wonderful 
teacher.” Alice Ware says every one of the singers she 


3i 


Through Old Eyes 

talked to was enthusiastic about Tom’s method. A fine 
feast for the large company was spread in two downstairs 
rooms opening on the beautiful garden. Virgie sang a 
duet with Tom exquisitely. All went off finely until we 
seated ourselves at the table. Then the two servants, the 
cook and her husband, took what is called over here, 
“English leave.” Tom’s two gardens are full of superb 
roses. It seems to me he has some very talented girls in 
his villa. The big concert room is as beautiful as ever 
but his handsome portrait has no tender decorations such 
as I saw in 1915. A married man cannot expect every¬ 
thing. 

Paris, 

June 13, 1921. 

Madeline and Mary took me in the rolling-chair to see 
the Miliukoffs. We were not expected but we found them 
at home. They live in the same house as Bellemere, rent 
an apartment of five rooms in the entresol. They pay for 
this furnished flat 550 francs a month, which is surpris¬ 
ingly cheap for Paris, as it is on one of the broadest 
avenues. He fears his landlord will raise the rent in 
October but people here have much compassion for Rus¬ 
sian refugees. He told me how the peasants took posses¬ 
sion of the land when the Bolsheviki gave it to them. 
They held their village assemblies to determine what to 
do with the landowners. Sometimes they carried a con¬ 
veyance and informed the owners that they must leave 
immediately, otherwise it would be their duty to kill them. 
Sometimes they allowed their former masters an allotment 
on die estate, telling them they must work it themselves 


32 


A New World 


just like the peasants. This was the most lenient method 
they employed. When they decided to kill the family in 
the great house, regarding it as a duty to their class, they 
burned all the household belongings because they looked 
upon theft as a crime. This peasant class, oppressed and 
kept in ignorance for centuries, knew nothing of com¬ 
promises : their decisions were of the simplest kind. The 
owners must be got rid of. Kill them, or if they were not 
too obnoxious, pack them off with a little hand luggage. 

The Miliukoffs dined with us yesterday. She has 
charming manners. Their only son was an aviator seven 
years, fighting the Germans first, then the Bolsheviki. 
He is now studying a profession in Paris. Mme. M. 
evidently keeps no servant as she left her dinner table to 
open the door for us when we called. They lost a son 
during the war. I had refrained from asking about their 
children fearing some such loss. He says Russia will 
always be grateful to America for not recognizing the 
Bolsheviki. This is, of course, according to his point of 
view, which is not mine. It is the innocent Russians who 
suffer from the boycott. The guilty, the Bolsheviki, en¬ 
joy all the luxuries of life. 


Paris, 

June 20, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

We have had a good deal of company this week. Nellie 
arrived from California the day Tom and Virgie dined 
with us. We had a most delightful evening together. 
One of Sedley’s friends, a very elegant French gentleman, 


33 


Through Old Eyes 

and his wife, dined with us another evening. The wife 
is very tall and handsome. One of the sons is so tall that 
they will be obliged this summer to heighten a fifteenth 
century doorway in their country home, which has served 
all these generations without causing inconvenience till 
this son reached his extraordinary height. This reminded 
us of Charles the 8th killing himself by striking his head 
against a low-arched doorway at the Castle of Ambroise. 
We discussed the struggle between Church and State in 
France before the war. I think M. Mouton was rather 
restrained in his talk by the presence of his wife, who is 
a very sincere Catholic. He said the conduct of the 
clergy had been so admirable during the war that there 
was no longer any kind of antagonism between Church 
and Government. It has certainly lost in its intensity, 
but I heard, only a few days ago, of a Protestant officer 
who said that in his town the Protestants and Catholics 
disliked each other so much that but for the neutrals (the 
sensible people), they would come to blows. He said, too, 
that when his superior officer is a devout Catholic it is 
very unpleasant for him. The Catholic Church is power¬ 
ful in France because the people love it. It takes them as 
children and forms indelible impressions, many of them 
very beautiful and touching. I noticed last evening tears 
in Mme. Mouton’s eyes when her husband was praising 
the clergy. The children could scarcely be driven to bed. 
They were so interested in the conversation. Little Alice 
makes wise observations. I had said that if the Bolshe- 
viki made people happy, I should be willing to become 
one, and give up the private ownership of property for 


34 


A New World 


the public benefit. But the fact was they carried misery 
and starvation wherever they got the upper hand, and it 
was for that reason and their cruelty that 1 detested them. 
Little Alice said later to her mother: “Granny says she 
could be a Bolshevist if they made people happy. I could 
never be one because they are wicked, and I could never 
be wicked.” She has taken the most violent fancy to the 
children of the concierge next door. There is a large 
court-yard between the two buildings where the family 
spend most of their time. They have a fine black cat 
which Alice adores, and two little girls of nine and eleven. 
These are at school until late in the afternoon, but that 
does not deter Alice from spending her time with the 
mother. She follows her about, watches her cook the 
meals, and sees that they are eaten, too. She never has 
any tales to tell of them, but when I asked if she helps 
the mother, she said: “Oh, yes, I peel the potatoes and 
shell the peas.” I fear there is a great waste in the peel¬ 
ings as she certainly never did anything of the kind be¬ 
fore. I told the concierge to send her home when she 
was annoying, but she answered: “She is very nice. She 
doesn’t worry me at all.” I sometimes hear little Alice 
reading aloud to the assembled family, for in this fine 
weather they live in the court-yard, which lies under my 
window. Concierges are treated very shabbily by archi¬ 
tects and houseowners. As a rule their small apartments 
have no outside windows. Lucky those who have a big 
court-yard. When the little concierges come from school 
they pull out a small table and the children sit around it 
and sketch, which Alice loves, or read, or play games. 


35 


Through Old Eyes 

Sometimes they go into the Luxembourg Garden to jump 
a rope. Nellie is fascinated with little Alice and says 
many things in her praise. But the youngest child always 
comes in for an undue amount of that. 

Last night Nellie and Alice Ware rolled me to the 
Miliukoffs’. Alice had to come back at once to put the 
little girls to bed, for Madeline has left us to pay some 
visits before sailing on the 25th. She is supremely happy. 
She will never find any one so indulgent as Alice Ware, 
whose theory with those who serve her is to leave the 
performance of their tasks to their own sense of duty, 
while she treats them with the most considerate indul¬ 
gence. We had a delightful evening with Mme. Miliu- 
koff; her husband was absent. While not young, she is 
pretty with a lovely expression and perfect manners. She 
began at my request a history of the eventful episodes in 
her husband’s life, and her simple recital was such an 
indictment of the old Russian Government as no denun¬ 
ciations could have equalled. As a professor of history 
he dared not mention the word ‘Constitution!’ She was 
just approaching the subject of the Revolution when the 
bell rang and Sedley Ware appeared. She then, in spite 
of my remonstrances, went to the kitchen to boil water 
and make tea, ransacking her sideboard to find everything 
that could be offered to eat, cakes, crackers, preserves, 
while that shameless couple, Nellie and Sedley, did not at¬ 
tempt to discourage her. I really felt provoked, Nellie 
accusing me of being an ascetic, and all laughing at my 
disapprobation of their “gourmandise.” I told Mme. 
Miliukoff that I was the only member of my family who 


36 


A New World 


did not approve of giving other people all manner of 
trouble to prepare things for them to eat, which they 
did not in the least need and which were actually bad for 
them, though they maintained that this was the only way 
to please those unfortunate friends whom they victimized. 
Mme. M. quoted a Russian proverb that one could not 
know people until one had eaten a 'pood’ of salt with 
them, nearly forty pounds. She and her husband are to 
dine with us Saturday. She told us how badly Gorki 
had acted, deserting his friends when the Communists 
began to show strength, and now trying to change again 
when they seem to be on the point of losing. I think he 
is doing good, whatever his motives. He has made a 
moving appeal to Europe and America for those starv¬ 
ing intellectuals. The Miliukoffs think fate will overtake 
the Bolsheviki in a few months. They, the M’s, have 
very high ideals. One perceives this in all their accounts 
of Russia, though they never attempt to make that im¬ 
pression. 

Nellie leaves soon for Switzerland, to my great regret. 
She is wonderful company. Her enthusiasms are con¬ 
tagious. Bill is on the ocean now. The fleet will land 
first at Norway, then at Lisbon. His last letter was the 
happiest he has ever written. To be first classman at 
the Naval Academy with all the privileges attached there¬ 
to was a sort of intoxication to him. He confessed to all 
sorts of eccentricities of conduct just to spend his high 
animal spirits. That boy has the happiest disposition I 
have ever seen. Nellie says if the United States Navy 
was not made for Bill he was certainly made for it. 


Through Old Eyes 


37 


Paws, 

June 27, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

Nellie left us yesterday. I miss her very much and 
wish she could always be with me. She did too much 
while in Paris, was going every night to the theatre or 
the Opera, and during the day to the galleries or 
museums, where she took great pleasure in recognizing 
her old favorites of the time when she was here with me, 
over thirty years ago. Especially was she appreciative 
of the Luxembourg at our door. I have been there only 
once, as galleries are too fatiguing for me. The two 
Lodors came on Wednesday, and we are so pleased to 
have them with us. Ned Searby invited them to the 
event of the season, the races at Longchamps for the 
Grand Prix. He took them out in style and they had 
a lovely afternoon. All the fashionable and diplomatic 
world was there, no doubt, as it is the custom for the 
President and his wife to be present on the occasion of the 
Grand Prix de Paris. Little Sue is quite fascinating. 
She neither paints, nor powders, which pleases me greatly, 
not that I am prejudiced in the slightest degree, but I 
consider it a crime for young girls to disfigure them¬ 
selves when Nature has made them so pretty. You never 
see ladies of the upper classes over here paint and powder, 
or disfigure their faces in any way. That is the preroga¬ 
tive of the demi-monde. We have a wonderful musician 
in the house, a young Pole. I had Newton Arps to din¬ 
ner last night and asked my Polish acquaintance to play 
for us. Newton, though not a performer, understands 


38 


A New World 


music well. He was so enthusiastic in his admiration 
that it gratified me very much. He said: “Americans 
and English cannot compete with these races who have 
the genius for music born in them.” I never had an ear 
for music but just learned to love it, though without 
understanding, when I lived in Germany years ago. Our 
Polish musician was ready to play Beethoven or any other 
of the great composers and without notes. Finally we 
asked for Chopin’s Funeral March, where those exquisite 
strains of hope and consolation break through the gloom, 
which however claims us again as we approach the open 
grave. I could not refrain from falling into a reverie, 
to the accompaniment of that immortal music, a reverie 
of the martyrdom of Poland, a land which had produced 
such musicians, such painters, such writers! One hun¬ 
dred and fifty years or more, under the military dictator¬ 
ship of Russia and Germany, who undertook to suppress 
a people of forty millions, and one so richly endowed, 
by taking from them their language, their nationality, 
their religion! With that accompaniment of Polish music 
the crime of this martyrdom appeared to me in blacker 
colors than ever before, and its folly as great as its 
wickedness. Perhaps it cannot be proven that there is no 
great statesmanship except that founded on justice and 
magnanimity, but to me it is a fundamental truth. 

Before Nellie left Paris she visited the famous battle¬ 
fields and her descriptions were graphic and thrilling. 
Lettice Delafield told us of a young Englishman whose 
last letter to his parents contained these words: “We go 
into the battle tomorrow at break of day. We shall 


39 


Through Old Eyes 

thereby furnish a show place to Cook’s tourists for years 
to come.” This young officer was killed and, though we 
feel the bitterness of his words, we must not reason thus. 
Not to visit the scenes of so much heroism would imply 
indifference on our part. We return awed by the great¬ 
ness of the sacrifice of those who fell on those fields in 
all the freshness of their youthful prime, harvested too 
soon by death. Those of our family who have gone have 
returned in this spirit. I wish I were physically able to 
do so. 

Paris, 

July 5, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

On Thursday we all went over to the Sorbonne to see 
John receive his diploma. It was a course in French 
civilization got up for foreign students in Paris. John 
was the youngest; all, or most, of the others had Uni¬ 
versity degrees. His marking was 86 out of a possible 
100. Only one American lady, with a degree from 
Columbia and six years of University study, received 
100. There were not many who ranked higher than John. 
It is true he underwent an examination in only one of his 
two courses. 

The two Sue Lodors are here, also Hallie and Annie 
Marye Porter. Hallie leaves tomorrow for the U. S. 
At the last minute the agent told her the price of her 
ticket had been raised by three hundred francs. Her 
passport and papers showed that she had worked in 
France for the Red Cross and later for the Rockefeller 
Foundation. This caused the agent to drop the demand. 


40 


A New World 


I 


Nellie is now in Switzerland with Alice Searby. Hallie 
never tires of telling us of the fine fare she and Alice 
had in Switzerland, where their landlady was a perfect 
cook and spent her whole time devising and preparing the 
most alluring culinary surprises. She begs me to go 
there, but what would I do in those lonely mountains? 
They are filled with flowers and Alpine glows and mar¬ 
vellous scenery, but my rolling-chair would be of no 
service, and merely food attracts me nowhere. It would 
add the gout to my other infirmities and be equally bad 
for what I am pleased to call my intellect. The fare 
in this hotel has been affected by the drouth which has 
lasted since early Spring. The earth is cracking, and the 
farmers in despair. As I have been a farmer, they have 
all my sympathies, though I know from experience that 
their normal state of mind is usually one of despair. I 
have a bottle of red pepper from which I make a sauce 
at each meal. This gives both appetite and digestion. I 
remember when I traveled in Spain years ago, I had a 
similar bottle, which on leaving Coruna was left on the 
hotel table. Sedley ran back to get it and threw it into my 
lap. The cork fell out. The weather was frightfully 
hot, the diligence small. A worthy Spanish priest, his 
female relative, Sedley and I filled it. The air became 
red hot with the finely pulverized pepper. I was very 
humble in my apologies but the circumstances were ag¬ 
gravating. I thought too of how I was imperilling the 
reputation of my compatriots. Among the American 
students in this hotel is Dana Durant. His father is em¬ 
ployed by the Polish Government as Food Administrator. 


4 1 


Through Old Eyes 

I met Mr. Durant in the Luxembourg Gardens and we 
had a pleasant talk. Naturally he is loyal to the govern¬ 
ment he serves, and when I inquired about Polish 
pogroms against defenceless Jews, he said the accounts 
had been grossly exaggerated. Dana had already in¬ 
formed me “that the Jews had only pretended to have 
been assassinated and their belongings looted, in order 
to rouse the sympathies of the world.” His father said 
that only about one hundred had actually been killed. He 
didn’t mention the number wounded and impoverished. I 
naturally thought that if one hundred Americans had 
been murdered and their possessions carried off in 
wagons, which had arrived in anticipation of the event, 
that the civilized portion of the world would have been 
overcome with indignation and horror; but people have 
a way of talking and thinking of Jews as though they, 
like the eels, are accustomed to being boiled. Dana is 
one of the finest and most intelligent boys I have ever 
met, not yet seventeen, speaking fluently several languages 
and as entertaining as a man of twenty-one, which indeed 
he appears to be. 

Last Saturday we had the pleasure of entertaining at 
tea, Mrs. London and her two daughters, Mrs. Heym 
and Alexandra. I love to entertain Hannah’s friends, 
especially those from Birmingham. We went into the 
Luxembourg Gardens from the tea room, I in my rolling- 
chair, and after seeing some of its beauties, we all sat 
in the shade and had an animated conversation. It is 
pleasant to entertain in the Luxembourg Gardens in sum¬ 
mer. Little Alice keeps up her intimacy with the little 


42 


A New World 


concierges. Indeed she is very friendly with all the little 
concierges of the neighborhood. Pete has written to the 
Atlantic Monthly to offer his articles as a favor to that 
journal. The editor wrote a few words courteously 
recommending to him the more popular magazines. Pete 
considers this recommendation as a testimony to his merit 
and as an introduction to the said magazines. I did not 
appreciate the value of the letter, and unfortunately lost 
it. He is much upset, but I have promised to search every 
corner of my room till it is found. 

Mrs. Lear sent Alice Ware from Sewanee some very 
fine bacon. As we are boarding we had no use for it, so 
I wrote to Mme. Gallien, my dear Ellen Bagbby’s prote¬ 
gee, to come for it. She came with Ellen's godson Andre, 
the unhappy Andre, who cannot learn “calcul.” He is 
very silent and impassive. If he has emotions he conceals 
them. Mme. Gallien was so anxious for me to visit the 
school where she works, that I agreed for her to come for 
me yesterday afternoon. It is a kindergarten called by 
the French, “mother’s school.” The principal was most 
cordial and said many things in praise of Mme. Gallien, 
who while making the most agreeable impression by her 
refinement and good sense together with her modest dig¬ 
nity and pleasing conversation is solely employed in scrub¬ 
bing the floors, sweeping and washing the courtyard, 
making the fires in winter, and doing other chores. It is 
true she is without instruction except of a most rudi¬ 
mentary kind, but what other working woman, except one 
of that class in Paris, could unite such qualities as these ? 
I think it is because the French are a truly democratic 


43 


Through Old Eyes 

nation and the working classes are thoroughly conscious 
of their own worth. The children brought up their work 
to show me and I pleased them by praising it, making 
only one mistake. The rabbit a dear little boy had drawn, 
and which had earned him the encomiums of his teachers, 
I mistook for a cat, but I made it all right by praising 
the expression he had put in the eyes. The children were 
dear little things, so submissive. They learn this in the 
long hours in the school, which I deplore always. When 
I parted from Mme. Gallien she asked if she should bring 
Andre to see me again before sending him to the coun¬ 
try. Now I have had two long visits from Andre, which 
I am sure he did not enjoy; besides he is Ellen’s boy and 
not mine, so I advised Mme. G. kindly but firmly not to 
bring him again. However, I have the greatest respect 
for anyone who has learned the multiplication table. 
Andre assured me he had. With this aid, he can practice 
“calcul” in private, and may yet go far. 

Sedley went to the bank today to sell a check for me. 
He took little Alice with him, the pride of his heart. But 
on leaving, being engrossed in thought, he forgot her. 
The child, finding herself abandoned, asked a lady in the 
bank what she should do. The lady wisely advised her 
to remain quietly till her father should return. When 
Sedley waked up to the fact that he had lost his youngest 
child, the baby, he was filled with consternation, thinking 
she might have tried to follow him, and had found it im¬ 
possible in the throng. He was afraid to come home and 
acknowledge that he had lost her, nor did he know where 
he had left her, as he had visited another bank after leav- 


A New World 


44 

ing the first. He found the child waiting patiently for his 
return. 

What a piteous picture that last Leipzig trial presents! 
Poor wounded Frenchmen begging for their lives and 
that brute furious with his soldiers for hesitating in their 
obedience. I believe the German soldiers learned to hate 
their officers when they saw themselves forced to commit 
crimes. It was the conduct of the Kaiser and his military 
chiefs which lost them the reverence and devotion of the 
soldiers. The common German is kindly disposed and 
has clear ideas of duty and religion. The Kaiser must 
have known what he was doing when he ran away from 
the army. 


Paris, 

July 12, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

Sedley has paid the inventory and is trying to forget it. 

m 

Any American landlord would have thanked him for all 
he spent on the house and readily excused some common 
plates and glasses broken. But these inventories are a 
regular means of extortion. In spite of the unexpected 
demands of the inventory, life in a Paris hotel with a 
family of eight is more expensive than the delightful 
home we all enjoyed in Versailles. The eight have been 
reduced to seven since Madeline’s departure, as I do not 
count myself, of course, among the dependent members 
of the family. Sedley will be glad to get his flock back 
to Sewanee. On our return Wednesday night from a 
charming dinner-party at M. Mouton’s, Sedley found on 


45 


Through Old Eyes 

looking into the little girls’ room that Mary was not there. 
Elizabeth told him that she had left a note in his letter¬ 
box. Filled with dismay, he plunged downstairs to the 
office, found the note in the dark, for lights in office and 
hall are extinguished at eleven. He then stopped at 
Annie Marye’s room in the entresol, knocked and called 
out: “Have you a match ? Mary has disappeared!” Now 
the match was intended for reading the note, as he was 
too uneasy to wait till he had gone up two other flights 
of stairs to his own room. Besides he feared to break the 
news to his wife. Annie Marye and I teased him un¬ 
mercifully next day. The whole mystery consisted in 
the fact that Bellemere had come after our departure, to 
take Mary out for the evening and give her a good time, 
after which she spent the night at Bellemere’s. Mary 
was fourteen on the ninth of this month. 

Mrs. Catherine Baker Houston called a few days ago, 
and I found that I had met her at her parents’ delightful 
home near Hot Springs, Virginia. On leaving she took 
John and Annie Marye away with her, and under John’s 
guidance they had a royal time. John’s course in French 
art at the Sorbonne, during which he studied the collec¬ 
tions and monuments of Paris, has made him an excellent 
guide. Tom came to see us Sunday, and was amusing 
as usual. He told us a very funny anecdote about an 
American tourist, to whom he had been showing Paris. 
She wanted to see the night life here, but on returning 
from these expeditions would always say with a sigh: 
“Paris has been greatly overrated. I saw nothing unusual 
this evening, everything perfectly tame and respectable.” 


46 


A New World 


One night Tom did not accompany her, but one of his 
girl pupils did. They went to Maxim’s. Tom says he 
often went to Maxim’s but had never been shocked there. 
Still it was a place, where all the conditions being favor¬ 
able, things might very well happen. On this particular 
evening, Miss C. sighted a table at the other end of the 
big room. She had to wind her way among the guests 
already seated. In accomplishing this, she put her lorg¬ 
nette to her eye and began to scrutinize the occupants of 
the tables, on either side, rather superciliously. All at 
once one of the men lifted the hem of her garment most 
deftly and pinched her sharply on the leg. She could not 
suppress a cry, springing upward and forward at the 
same time. This was the signal for fun, and each table 
gave its own peculiar pinch as the lady passed on with 
alternate springs and cries. The next day the young 
singer could scarcely go through with her lesson for 
laughing, but Tom did not dare allude to the respecta¬ 
bility of Maxim’s in Miss C.’s presence. 

Sedley took me in the rolling-chair to see the Sene¬ 
galese soldiers. They made a bayonet charge, then sepa¬ 
rated in squads under the trees of the Tuileries gardens 
and danced their war dances to the beating of tom-toms. 
They are extremely black but not so much so as the Su¬ 
danese whom Sedley and I saw at the First Cataract in 
Egypt. Their dancing was very primitive. One very 
tall young man walked around on his hands with his legs 
over his head. I talked to them and would have been 
interested in their replies, but the noise was great and I 
too deaf to hear. They said: “France was the front in 


47 


Through Old Eyes 

the war, and we fought everywhere.” This with a big 
sweeping movement of the hands. I asked if they wanted 
to go home. “Now see,” said one to me, “if your father 
and your mother were down there, wouldn’t you, too?” 
They spoke French, but poorly. It is very hot in Paris 
and the drought has become a national calamity. 


Paris, 

July 18, 1921. 

We had a telegram from our boy Bill yesterday from 
Lisbon, saying he would not be allowed to visit us here, 
so we shall all be off tomorrow for the seacoast. Tom 
and Virgie invited the two Sues, Annie Marye and our 
two boys yesterday to a luncheon at their Sevres villa to 
be followed by a picnic excursion to Versailles to see the 
fountains and fireworks. I sat up quite late last night 
waiting for their return. The luncheon passed off well, 
they said. The twenty-two young people were to be con¬ 
veyed to Versailles in a great van with hampers contain¬ 
ing the superb cold supper. But in the midst of the 
general pleasure two of Virgie’s servants departed leaving 
an immense amount of work behind them. Virgie is, 
however, a woman of wonderful energy and resource 
and, fortunately for the family, a devoted and capable 
Aunt has recently come to live with them. The excur¬ 
sion would have proved a grand success had not a heavy 
downpour of rain come just as the company were seated 
and ready to enjoy the fairylike spectacle prepared for 
the immense concourse of people in the Chateau gardens. 
The rain was so hard and persistent that our section of 


48 


A New World 


the party took refuge in a cafe, where they dried them¬ 
selves partially with towels. They took coffee and cognac, 
considering themselves justified by the cold deluge. They 
all agreed that the fireworks over the fountains were the 
most marvellous ever seen. 

Sedley had to get a separate Swiss passport for Mary. 
He has been traveling thus far with a family passport on 
which is pasted the interesting photograph of himself, 
surrounded by wife and children. But this neither 
touched nor satisfied Switzerland. Mary, who is just 
fourteen, could not be trusted by that plucky little Repub¬ 
lic, without a separate passport, for the world over here 
is really passport mad. Did this madness seize it when 
the U. S. refused to join the League of Nations? I got 
John to go to the Dutch Consulate for me, providing him 
with a full supply of documents. He has a cool business 
head very necessary at this time of crazy suspicions so 
hard on honest people, so entertaining, I imagine, to 
thieves. John got on very well till he was asked to name 
two persons in Holland who could guarantee my good 
conduct during my visit to The Hague. He was forced 
to return, a little apologetic, to get this information. He 
found an American at the Dutch Consulate in much 
trouble. This man had written in his document that he 
wished to remain a fortnight in Holland. The Dutch 
Secretary copied this as eight days. The American did 
not understand French or Dutch, but he could read the 
figure eight. John translated for his countryman but the 
Dutch Secretary was unwilling to admit that he did not 
understand the word fortnight, maintained that it meant 


49 


Through Old Eyes 

a very short period of time, and that eight days was a 
liberal allowance for such a period. The American, on 
the contrary, said he could not possibly transact his busi¬ 
ness in eight days, that he needed a genuine English fort¬ 
night. John deferentially intimated that he had always 
understood the word as meaning two weeks. The Ameri¬ 
can sent his card to the head man, enthroned in an inner 
office, with the request that the eight be changed to four¬ 
teen. But this request had to be made through the secre¬ 
tary whose vanity had been so cruelly wounded, and 
naturally his “Chief” stood by his subordinate. So the 
eight-day passport had to be accepted, the American rag¬ 
ing the while. But John has been seized lately by a mania 
for being reasonable and he adopts any theory which he 
considers to be so. He maintains that the American 
should have had his papers made out in French, as the 
employees of a Consulate cannot be expected to under¬ 
stand any other foreign language than the one where the 
Consulate is situated. But might not such an attitude of 
mind prove subversive of the respect due to the greatness 
of our Republic? 

Hotel des Bains, St. Pair sur mer, Manche, 

July 25, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

Our eight hours' trip from Paris here was both 
pleasant and restful, for we were not crowded and I was 
able to lie down the entire time. Our Paris proprietor 
provided a fine lunch which with a few additions, was 
most satisfactory. A French fcouple, our fellow-travelers, 


5» 


A New World 


made themselves both useful and agreeable, so we arrived 
in fine spirits. This little village watering-place is charm¬ 
ing; and not being a fashionable resort, we feel so much 
freer. The hotel is primitive in some respects, but so is 
the entire village, which has no running water. All the 
water we use has to be brought up from a pump in the 
back-yard. The beach is perfectly safe for children. 
They wade out far in low tide and are much entertained 
by anything they happen to find. Sedley and the boys 
take a swim early every morning, dressing and undress¬ 
ing in the hotel. We have never had such luxurious fare 
as is given us here. The cook is the proprietor, who 
doubtless served as “chef” in some fashionable resort be¬ 
fore undertaking the hotel business himself. He certainly 
knows how to cook and how to market. He gives us 
fresh lobster with mayonnaise and the tenderest of fowls 
twice a week each. His fish salads are something excep¬ 
tional in the perfection of the fish as well as the accom¬ 
panying sauces. In fact, we seem to have come to a land 
where cheapness and plenty reign. I took two pieces of 
the most delicious pastry at the midday meal yesterday 
and consequently did not go to dinner last night. The 
food is extremely tempting and it is doing the young 
people good, but I shall have to exercise self-restraint. 

The afternoon of our arrival a fire occurred in the 
little village, near our hotel. As soon as I had finished 
my toilet I went out to look on, finding a seat before a 
little restaurant threatened by the fire and temporarily out 
of commission. As there is no public water a double 
chain of people had been formed from the sea, below the 


5i 


Through Old Eyes 

hill, to the villa, which was burning from its top story. 
Everyone in the chain was provided with a household 
utensil, a pitcher, a bucket, a pot, or a kettle. The fanci¬ 
fully-dressed tourists, out for a promenade, were im¬ 
pressed as well as the natives. Sedley, Alice Ware, Mary, 
the two boys, and even Elizabeth and little Alice, were put 
to work, the two latter for one hour in the empty bucket 
line. Alice Ware was so exhausted and sore next morn¬ 
ing she could hardly drag herself out of bed. Annie 
Marye worked till she was tired, for her knee is still 
somewhat stiff. While she was talking to me a gentle¬ 
man of very decided mien and energetic air came up to 
her and said: '‘The rule is to work or go home.” I ex¬ 
plained that she was not entirely recovered from a com¬ 
pound fracture of the thigh bone, and that she had already 
served in the chain gang; but she thought it more prudent 
to retire to the hotel. We had already seen the arrival 
from Grandville of a few firemen, but the water they 
used had to be brought up from the sea in a large barrel 
hauled by a single horse. When the barrel was tilted so 
as to permit the water to run into the buckets, the band 
under the horse’s body was drawn up so tight as nearly 
to deprive the poor beast of breath. As I have already 
said, there were two lines of people in the chain gang, 
one handing back the empty buckets, the other forward¬ 
ing those containing water. When the hard workers be¬ 
came exhausted, they were admitted into the ranks of 
the empty buckets, and those who were rested took their 
places. I saw a funny scene which I did not understand 
till John explained it to me. A lady tourist, dressed for 


52 


A New World 


the evening promenade was engaged in a heated alterca¬ 
tion with a gentleman. She returned to the hotel and 
brought back her husband to point out to him the man 
who had insulted her. John said she got small sympathy 
from the workers, for she had refused to take her share 
in saving the town. One of the working women, to whom 
the husband appealed, struck at him with an empty can¬ 
vas bucket. We were much amused at this scene. Eliza¬ 
beth and little Alice, after their hour’s service, were so 
afraid of being impressed again that whenever anyone 
approached, having the appearance of authority, they 
would run around a corner and, hide. Next day the 
Mayor sent a man with a drum around the village and to 
the beach to thank the tourists and the inhabitants for 
the valuable assistance they had rendered. I had been 
greatly entertained by the very leisurely way in which 
the fire, the firemen, and the population conducted them¬ 
selves. The fire burned gently in the top story of the villa, 
sending out discreet flames to show where it was to be 
found, and accommodating itself entirely to the methods 
of the inhabitants. The stone houses of French villages 
do not offer spectacular conflagrations. 

Annie Marye leaves us tomorrow. Her tourist life 
has done her a great deal of good. She is so interested 
in all she sees that it forces her to walk a great deal, and 
that has been a great service to the thigh and knee muscles. 
She now walks quite normally. She takes the boat to¬ 
morrow for Jersey, thence to England to finish her visit 
there. She and John spent a day last week at Mont 
St. Michel and were most enthusiastic over everything 


53 


Through Old Eyes 

they saw. Sedley will take Alice one day next week. I 
saw it well long ago and remember it vividly. The day 
Annie Marye and John spent at Mont St. Michel the 
rest of us took a drive in a motor-bus through some of 
the villages bordering the sea. All the members of the 
party who could walk climbed a steep hill whence they 
had a fine view of Mont St. Michel and the whole coast. 
The walk down was slippery over the parched grass, with 
thorns to tear the hands of those who fell. I, of course, 
stayed in the motor and had a chance to lie down. 

We leave here on the 31st. Sedley takes Mary to 
Switzerland on the first of August so as to return on the 
second, the day his “billet de nombreuse famille” will have 
to be renewed. John will then be eighteen, after which, 
instead of a reduction of fifty per cent on his traveling 
expenses in France there will be one of forty per cent. 
This reduction has been a great help to the family. It is 
certainly very generous in the French Government to 
allow a foreigner to profit by it. It has enabled Sedley 
to take his boys to many places of interest, to the battle¬ 
fields and to famous cathedrals. 


Hotel des Bains, 

July 31. 

Dearest Family : 

We are all leaving St. Pair today at ten o’clock. I 
shall begin my weekly letter and finish it in Paris. We 
leave here with many regrets. Friends have been made 
and there is much to amuse the young people; a casino 


A New World 


54 

nearby where they dance every afternoon, sea-bathing, 
movies and a theatre where French comedies are acted. 
Elizabeth and Alice Marye have good friends in a French 
family with three very small children and no nurse. Our 
little girls are amusingly motherly to these little ones. I 
saw Elizabeth, as I was leaving the dining-room, washing 
their hands and arms in the back hall. One evening at 
the casino I saw Alice Marye in every dance, winding in 
and out among the grown-up couples, teaching these 
children to dance, entertaining them and their parents 
hugely. She and Elizabeth regard them as big dolls and 
never tire of playing the mother to them. The parents 
are completely won over and take our little girls on beau¬ 
tiful motor drives. One warm afternoon on the beach, 
a gentleman organized a big game to include all the 
children present. Their peals of laughter, the screams 
of delight and excitement, resounded very pleasantly over 
the sands. Another late afternoon when the tide was full, 
Pete, in his bathing-suit, jumped into a life-boat and, 
standing on the high rim of the stern, dived fearlessly 
into the walls of water as they dashed foaming against 
the shore, striving vainly to rid the sea of him and his 
craft. All the promenaders were soon gathered together 
to look at him buffeting and baffling the waves with so 
much coolness and skill. At one moment his feet only 
could be seen, sticking straight up in the air. In this way 
he amused the crowd and his own admiring family for 
a long time. I had no idea he could be so thoroughly at 
his ease in such a surf. 

The news of Lenin’s evolution toward capitalism is 


55 


Through Old Eyes 

highly interesting. With forty million famine-stricken 
people on his hands, besides his other problems, I trust 
he now sees the folly, at least, if not the crime, of his 
course. But the world will ever owe a debt of gratitude 
to Russia for having tried out that stupendous experiment 
of Communism to its inevitable and fatal end of self- 
destruction, and that wholly, or almost wholly, at the 
expense of its own people. The Russians will also owe to 
the Bolsheviki that they put the land where it right¬ 
fully belongs—in the hands of those who work it. They 
will also inherit from them a “table rase,” politically 
speaking on which the people will have an opportunity 
to erect something far better than Tzarism, and most 
certainly better than Communism. In short, private own¬ 
ership has triumphed, human nature has re-asserted its 
fundamental rights against a fanaticism which ignored 
them. What people, after this, will dare a second attempt 
at communism ? 

Are you interested in Spanish affairs in Morocco? 
Ever since those two years I spent in Spain, before the 
Spanish-American War, while Sedley was at Oxford, I 
have been interested in Spanish colonial enterprises. I 
have re-visited Spain once since then. It was a most 
happy riddance for that country when the United States 
relieved it of its burdens in the Philippines and in the 
Gulf of Mexico. But we did not relieve it of those fana¬ 
tical Moslems the Riff tribesmen of Northern Morocco. 
If Spain would relinquish her shadowy claims to govern 
them to France or England or to the League of Nations, 
she would be able to provide schools for her Spanish 


56 


A New World 


children. When I was in Spain the poverty of the public 
school teachers was a standing joke in the popular 
theatres. Their wretched salaries were some years in 
arrears, and their indigence so great they were regarded 
as comic characters by the people. Yet during all this 
time wars were being waged in Morocco, in the West 
Indies, and the Philippines. While hearing the Spaniards 
at the hotel table boast that they had the only army in 
the world which could fight and win battles without being 
fed, I was reading in the daily press of defeats inflicted 
by the Riff tribesmen. They were not called defeats but 
one had no difficulty in recognizing them as such. If the 
Spaniards had traded with their colonies and abandoned 
the costly and ungrateful task of governing them, Spain 
would have been a prosperous nation, but the glamour of 
military glory is still the most powerful influence with 
the governing classes in that country. Did they not main¬ 
tain that the pork packers of America could never van¬ 
quish the chivalry of Spain? But if pork packers feed 
their armies and chivalry does not, who can doubt the 
result? Another subject of much boasting by Spaniards 
when I was in Spain was that they only had a distinctive 
national sport. If one wishes to see this national sport 
at its proudest moment let him attend the first bull fight 
of the season at Seville. He will “sup full of horrors,” 
but he will not fail to see the wealth, the beauty, the 
aristocracy of Spain assembled. 

I read this morning that Hoover is to commence feed¬ 
ing one million Russian children. I believe he has saved 
more human lives than any other man who ever lived. 


57 


Through Old Eyes 

The Kaiser enjoys the unique distinction of having 
caused, by this world war, more deaths than any other 
scourge of the human race. It was meet that Hoover 
should have been raised up as a counterpoise. 

I began this letter at St. Pair, that lovely little fishing 
port, and am now finishing it in Hotel Fleurus, Paris. 
As we left St. Pair our children were surrounded by their 
friends to bid them goodbye. All are now planning to 
come back some day to Normandy to spend a month at 
least at St. Pair where we were treated so generously, 
and the children were so happy. If we do we shall cer¬ 
tainly write beforehand to secure a tent and a cabin, as 
these were all that was lacking to our happiness. We 
had to half bury ourselves in holes in the sand, which was 
really not at all unpleasant with our rugs and umbrellas, 
but all the same we felt like pariah dogs, and it made us 
humbler in our attitude toward the world in general than 
was altogether pleasant. We were timid, too, about making 
and receiving advances. However, at the casino, the young 
people made many friends, went to the theatre in parties 
and had such a good time that they are all eagerness to 
return. Think of a theatre where to hear a French comedy 
they paid only three francs, less than twenty-five cents, a 
very good and cheap French lesson. Indeed, at St. Pair 
we had no need of a French governess for the children. 

We were very glad to see the two Sue Lodors on our 
return here for they have endeared themselves to all of 
us. We have pictured the delights of Normandy to them 
till they are enthusiastic about going there with us to 
spend some time, a whole summer, perhaps. Newton 


58 


A New World 


Arps is back from his Swiss trip, and paid me a visit this 
morning in my room. He wanted to talk over with me 
a tour in England. 

These inventory agents are ever pressing fresh demands 
on Sedley. They have empoisoned his existence since he 
fell into their hands. To free himself from their impor¬ 
tunities, he has already paid various sums since the settle¬ 
ment, and now that woman agent fancies that she has 
been overlooked in the shower of bank notes. Sedley 
still says with a tragic grimace: “It is an experience.” 


The Hague, 
August 7, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

I left Paris last Tuesday the 2d of August. I was 
able to lie down on the train with my air pillow most 
comfortably. Mrs. Scheepens had written that I should 
recognize her by a bunch of red roses in her hand, but of 
course I forgot all about the red roses in the difficulty of 
finding a porter. Just as I had found him I felt myself 
suddenly seized and warmly embraced. But as a means 
of recognition, the large bunch of handsome red roses 
was thrown away on me. I am not in Mrs. Scheepens’ 
home. She has no guest room, nor any means of making 
one. I sleep in a nearby house and go over at twelve 
o’clock every day to remain till after the evening meal. 
Someone always comes for me. First it was “Wims,” 
now fourteen years old, but he has been ill with cold and 
fever and so the interpreter comes in his place. This is a 


59 


Through Old Eyes 

friend of Mrs. Scheepens whose husband was a Scotch¬ 
man, from whom she is supposed to have inherited the 
English language. She told me he did not permit her to 
speak English with him as he wished to be entirely at 
ease in the language of this country. He was a good hus¬ 
band, and died in her service fifteen years ago in the 
Dutch Indies. I was just a little impatient of her presence 
at first, feeling sure I could make myself understood, and 
not entirely appreciating the situation, but I have been 
completely won over by her rare goodness and efficiency. 

There are numbers of retired Dutch colonial officers 
living here. Such a family lives on the floor under the 
Scheepens’ apartment and the gentleman and his wife 
asked permission to call on me. They could speak English 
and their conversation was very entertaining. They de¬ 
clared that if women had voted there would have been no 
war. I said women believe what they are told, and when 
the Kaiser informed the nation that Germany was being 
attacked, that bombs had already fallen on Nuremberg, 
the falsehood was believed, and the women were more 
eager perhaps than the men, to defend the Fatherland. 
These Dutch people were astonished to hear that Ger¬ 
many had furnished weapons to all belligerents in former 
wars, that it was she who had furnished England with 
munitions to fight the Boers, though she loved and sym¬ 
pathized with the latter and hated England. I have no 
idea the Germans were ever permitted to know that their 
beloved Boers were conquered by German weapons in 
English hands. 

I did not intend to relearn the Dutch language, but I 


6o 


A New World 


cannot refrain from reading the Dutch papers, with a 
dictionary, of course, and the words naturally come back. 
I read a little English every day with Mrs. Scheepens, 
which she enjoys, and she learns very fast too. Then I 
speak French with Wims who is a dear boy. We took 
that lovely drive out to Scheveningen the other day. The 
beach is fascinating with its gay throngs; the children 
always busy building sand fortifications. The big round- 
topped chairs where hundreds sit sheltered from wind 
and sun give it a singular appearance of bumpiness, as 
seen from above. 

Colonel Goldman has been to see me, and made himself 
very agreeable. It was he who took charge of me in 
Sumatra. I have had other visitors too, among them a 
charming American woman, married to a Dutchman, 
Mrs. Dewaal. She told me she was a writer. She is very 
bright and agreeable. I have not yet mentioned the hos¬ 
tess of my sleeping apartment. We became intimate 
from the first day, and she asked me to call her Harriet. 
As I did not know her name, this was very convenient. 
One of her great cares is to get me to bed at night as early 
as possible after I return from the Scheepens’. She then 
tucks me in, shuts every blind and curtain, leaving only 
about a couple of inches of open window. The room is 
big, however. She speaks no English, and her French 
is so imperfect that when she gets me to understand some 
fragment of a phrase, she kisses my hands and cheeks 
rapturously. Her children are married and do not live 
at home. I have heard all about them and as I am always 
interested in children, I enjoy this part of our conversa- 


6i 


Through Old Eyes 

tion. But the interpreter has children also, married and 
living away from home, and unfortunately, I have got 
them so mixed in my mind that I have to be very cautious 
when this interesting subject is under discussion. When 
I discovered that a parlor was to be my bedroom, my heart 
sank within me. I like to feel at ease in my room and 
not be surrounded by all sorts of “bibelots” and parlor 
ornaments. Besides the heavy crimson cut-velvet chairs 
are hard to move, while the light from the windows is 
obscured by shades and two sets of curtains, all requiring 
careful attention for fear of rain and sun. Into this scene 
of elegance has been introduced a common washstand 
with a monumental pitcher and basin, so heavy that I 
cannot lift them. I must go to the bath room even to 
wash the tips of my fingers. My bed is in the far, dark 
end of the room, so one day I spread papers on the floor 
near the windows and, propped by pillows, was reading 
and writing, very satisfactorily to myself, when Harriet 
saw me. She immediately had a very nice lounge brought 
in (during my absence), and enjoyed my surprise and 
pleasure immensely. I told her that neither the Queen 
of England nor that of Holland or of Belgium had any 
greater luxury than mine. After that she could not re¬ 
sist coming in from time to time and she would bring 
visitors to peep in at me from the door, so pleasant was 
the sight of me on this luxurious lounge to her kind 
heart. I had to assure her repeatedly that no luxury I 
had ever experienced approached it. Before the lounge 
arrived, I had made up my mind to stand this parlor 
treatment as I should a spell of smallpox or scarlet fever, 


62 A New World 

till Friday the 12th when I should be freed from this 
gilded captivity. 

The Hague, 
August nth, 1921. 

I am leaving tomorrow and though it is earlier than 
my writing day, I shall begin my letter and finish it in 
Coblenz. I have really had a very charming visit to Mrs. 
Scheepens, but I shall be glad to give up my parlor bed¬ 
room with its heavy windows which I cannot raise, its big 
potted plant in front of them, the many curtains and 
heavy cut-velvet furniture. I want to get into a bedroom 
where I can open a window at night. Harriet was cer¬ 
tainly very good to put such a comfortable lounge in her 
parlor for me, and I have been very grateful ever since, 
though I fear I hurt her feelings the other day. She 
came in my room bearing one of the large shoes of her 
other lodger, a very tall Dutchman, and one of her own 
little white slippers, to show me the amazing contrast. 
Without, for the moment, noticing her naive satisfaction 
in her small feet, I told her the young man’s shoe was 
none too big, that small feet generally betoken in a man 
a narrow intellect. Certainly so when there was evidence 
that the shoes were too small, which I confess was not 
the case with her lodger who, if there be any truth in my 
mode of judging, is entitled to a giant understanding. I 
added too that small feet in women were nearly always 
deceptive, that it was the shoes which were small and not 
the feet, and that to gratify their bad taste and petty 
vanity, women suffer far more than the Creator intended, 
though here too I confessed that I knew ladies who really 


63 


Through Old Eyes 

had very small feet, and who wore loose shoes, yet strange 
to say I had never heard the subject of feet mentioned by 
them. Poor Harriet, who had expected to enjoy my 
amazement over the striking contrast between her lodger’s 
shoe and her own, left my room most painfully disillu¬ 
sioned, and my repentance was swift and profound. I 
tried afterwards to entertain her a long time when I was 
most anxious to read the morning paper. I began even 
to sympathize with her weakness. I thought of the many 
humiliations poverty brings with it, which this little inno¬ 
cent vanity may have helped her to bear, and which caused 
no suffering to others, only to herself, so I blamed my 
cruel zeal greatly, and ever since I have been very patient 
with Harriet, though we have not mentioned feet. I fear 
I let the same impatience wound my good friend the in¬ 
terpreter also. Every time we went past the Queen 
Mother’s house, the interpreter would insist on my look¬ 
ing at it. When we went to Scheveningen the carriage 
was required to draw up before the Queen Mother’s house 
both in going and coming, so that my eyes could be glad¬ 
dened by the sight, and my imagination revel in all the 
associations of royal grandeur which such a house in¬ 
spires in devout worshippers of royalty. But alas, my 
imagination was too feeble for the effort, and I felt no 
fires of enthusiasm kindle in my soul at the sight of the 
old lady’s abode. Then each time in the tram cars, which 
we take every afternoon for the air, the interpreter would 
not spare me. ‘‘Look! Look! There is the Queen 
Mother’s house!” And when I didn’t look at it, but pre¬ 
ferred to look anywhere else, she was sure I had not 


6 4 


A New World 


heard, and would speak louder. I got so tired at last of 
the Queen Mother’s house, that I exclaimed impulsively: 
“My dear, I don’t care a farthing for the Queen Mother’s 
house. Indeed I believe it is ugly. I know it is too big 
for one old woman. Why cannot the Queen Mother live 
with her daughter, or with her German son-in-law and 
her granddaughter Juliana? No doubt they have a house 
big enough to take her in. Why should one old woman 
have that big house all to herself? Are old women so 
precious in this country?” This outburst was unpardon¬ 
able, but Mrs. Scheepens laughed so much that the inter¬ 
preter was obliged to laugh too, and now every time 
anyone mentions the Queen Mother, Mrs. Scheepens 
laughs while I feel very guilty. For the interpreter has 
been most useful to me. She has attended to my pass¬ 
port, bought my railway ticket, and sold my English 
money most satisfactorily. Mrs. Scheepens has a good 
deal of company in the afternoons and evenings. She 
always has something to offer them. Colonel Goldman 
came twice to see me and his wife spent an evening here, 
bringing a superb bouquet. The Goldmans tell me things 
have changed much in Sumatra since I was there. No 
longer are the natives required to work eighty days in the 
year for Government service. You remember I wrote 
you from Java that a very puritanical administration in 
Holland forced native children to attend Christian 
schools. This started a zealous Mohammedan campaign 
among the people who had previously been very tolerant 
in religious matters. A new administration gave orders 
to reverse the unpopular course, but the secret societies 


65 


Through Old Eyes 

and organizations against the Dutch had gone too far; 
the people had learned the advantages and strength of 
union, so the ball rolled on, gaining all the time in momen¬ 
tum, till now there are no more eighty days of obligatory 
service in Sumatra, and many other things are changed. 
I am told that it is even difficult for the Dutch to get 
carriages at the stations, the rule being to serve natives 
first and then whites. A Dutch gentleman told me he was 
in Java two years ago and “had to threaten the hack 
driver with his walking cane” before he was allowed to 
get in. Rescinding bad legislation brings unexpected 
consequences among subject races. 

I cannot but envy the Dutch their fine digestions. I 
have often proposed to go out as late as four o’clock so 
as to allow time for acquiring an appetite for refresh¬ 
ments, after our one o’clock dinner. But I am always 
told that it is too late, so we get off at half past two, and 
everybody is then ready to take any kind of food with 
pleasure and profit to themselves. What enjoyment all 
this means! To be able to pause at any hour of the day’s 
or evening’s occupations and eat something you are fond 
of! There is no use denying that this capacity for digest¬ 
ing choice foods adds enormously to the sum of human 
happiness. Mrs. Scheepens’ table is delightful, but poor 
I, with my American stomach, have to exercise great 
self-restraint. Either the climate or a kindly dispensation 
of Providence has favored the Dutch immensely in this 
respect. I read the Dutch papers and could re-acquire a 
speaking knowledge of the language, but my ten days’ 
stay here will end tomorrow. 


66 


A New World 


Coblenz, Y. W. C. A. Hostess House, 

August 15, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

I left the Hague last Friday morning. My friends 
accompanied me to the station. Although I had written 
Colonel Goldman not to see me off, he went early to secure 
me a place, as seats could not be reserved. Mrs. 
Scheepens put up a delicious lunch with a canteen of tea. 
Then Harriet brought a box of marvelous fruit, so lus¬ 
cious that it must have come from a hot-house, an enorm¬ 
ous bunch of perfect black Hamburg grapes, delicious 
ripe peaches and bananas; a costly gift which she should 
not have made. When I took off the lovely flowers on 
the top of the box, I was astonished, and deeply touched, 
that she, poor as she is, should have spent so much on 
a lodger of ten days only. The train was crowded and 
soon the Dutch passengers got off, and for some hours 
I was alone. Then some very nice Germans came in, a 
mother and grown son. They sat opposite me and I 
began a conversation. I asked the young man which 
was the best German paper. He was reading the Berlin 
paper I used to take, but the print is so bad I asked for 
the name of some other liberal journal. He said: “Our 
papers are all partisan.” I asked what he thought of the 
Frankfurter Zeitung. “Oh, that belongs to the Radical 
Left.” “Well, if it is not Bolshevist it will suit me, for 
I am an American and of course democratic.” I saw that 
neither he nor his mother was liberal, perhaps they were 
monarchists, for most Germans believe the Empire can 
only be held together by a strong central government. 


67 


Through Old Eyes 

Then I asked, with hesitation, if the Kaiser had many 
friends in Germany. They said they didn’t know. When 
the League of Nations was mentioned, a gentleman in the 
far corner said that a league of nations had existed, was 
existing, and always would exist, and, rubbing his fingers 
together, continued: “This is the bond which binds na¬ 
tions together. It is money, money, money.” I said: 
“As money represents labor, it is a very good bond, per¬ 
haps the very best, if honestly earned.” This excited him. 
“Yes, if honestly earned! Look at the City of Frankfurt. 
It is full of very rich people, war profiteers, and yet 
they would not feed the starving children of their own 
city, but appealed to the world to feed them. Was that 
honest? Was not that a shame?” This he repeated in 
various words, finding it hard to express his indignation 
against the city of Frankfurt. Of course I could not 
condemn that great city unheard, undefended, against a 
man so full of prejudice. I could only say the world was 
right to send help. It is a crime to let children starve. 
But I hurried to give him some of those luscious grapes. 
This attention quieted him and soothed his feelings. I 
also shared my fruit with the others, and soon we were 
all good friends. They asked where I came from, so I 
had to give an account of myself, winding up by saying 
that I was on my way to visit some good German friends 
of nearly forty years standing. 

Philip Bagby and Mary, his wife, met me at a station 
near Coblenz in the staff auto. I had to wait a few min¬ 
utes for them and my German friends on the train were 
much concerned about me. Philip is on General Allen’s 


68 


A New World 


staff and enjoys a very fine reputation here. I saw his 
wife for the first time and am greatly pleased with her. 
They wanted to take me home for supper, but I had eaten 
enough and preferred to come here and go to bed at once. 
The Bagbys invite me to take luncheon and dinner with 
them every day. Their beautiful home is most attractive. 
They have two guests already, two jcharming American 
girls, Betty and Margaret. Each has secured a young 
American captain as her captive. They are good friends 
of mine, for I am always ready to praise the fine appear¬ 
ance of their captains, handsome, stalwart young Ameri¬ 
cans. Finding me so congenial, they have confided their 
love affairs to me, of course with reservations, so that I 
find myself suddenly plunged into the rosy atmosphere 
of romance. While I do not read fiction, living romance 
is full of interest to me. The suitors arrive on week days 
at five and remain till twelve. On Sundays, they come at 
three and remain till twelve, but letters are interchanged 
during the dull intervening hours, and each has a pro¬ 
longed telephone call daily. 

The Bagbys occupy the first and second floors of a 
beautiful house on the banks of the Rhine. The owner 
lives in the attic. As I caught a glimpse of him, hurry¬ 
ing out of his front door, his very attitude seemed to be¬ 
token humiliation, so I felt very sorry for him. But 
when I was told he was an old bachelor, I withdrew my 
sympathy, for I consider that he has evaded the most 
manifest duties of life. His big reception rooms have 
beautiful oriental rugs on the floors. Philip and Mary 
gave me a lovely drive up to the rocky fortress of Ehren- 


69 


Through Old Eyes 

breitstein. We crossed the Rhine on a pontoon bridge, 
and after admiring the exquisite view from the top, with 
the junction of the Rhine and Moselle at our feet, we 
descended and drove between the vineclad hills of the 
Moselle. Of course I get no idea of German sentiment in 
Coblenz, where I am identified with the Army of Occu¬ 
pation. The Bagbys have three fine servants and live in 
what we should call great luxury. They have two chil¬ 
dren. Little Philip, three years old, is a wonderful child, 
so bright and handsome. He talks, too, in a remarkably 
interesting way. Mary is a most judicious mother. I 
am very comfortable in this hotel, now a Hostess House. 
It has been raining and the furnace is lighted, but my 
window is wide open, thank Heaven! I am glad not to 
be in my parlor bedroom at Harriet’s. I got used to her 
ways and became fond of her, and learned to appreciate 
the real goodness of her character, especially when I be¬ 
gan to understand her conversation. One day Harriet 
needed ten gulden, but she was afraid to ask me for the 
loan until she found out whether it would inconvenience 
me. So she opened my bag and was examining its con¬ 
tents, when I entered my room. She shut it and said 
nothing. That evening when I returned from the Schee- 
pens’ I laid it on the bed, with my watch in it. Soon 
after I wanted to see the time, but couldn’t find the bag. 
Presently Harriet came in and put it back on the bed. I 
asked: “Who took my bag out of the room?” She an¬ 
swered naively: “Moi.” And next morning she asked 
me to lend her the ten gulden, which I owed her anyway, 
and more too. But it was all owing to her fear of 


70 


A New World 


inconveniencing me which led her to adopt such odd 
methods. She was singularly naive, with much real 
kindness. 

Did you ever read anything quite equal to the Russian 
famine sufferers? Pushed on by hunger from behind, 
they press onward to neighboring lands more fortunate, 
and are met by a wall of bayonets, bristling bayonets! I 
do not dare to let my imagination picture such a tragedy 
as that of Russia under Bolshevism. I shall send my con¬ 
tribution to Hoover. I have unlimited confidence in him. 


Coblenz, 
August 21, 1921. 

I did not mention in my last that in coming here I 
passed the great industrial region of Germany, the Ruhr, 
which was occupied, not very long since, by the French. 
On every side were chimneys pouring out smoke, engines 
moving and all the signs of intense activity. The people 
I saw were all well dressed. A boy came into the train, 
and people put money in the box he held. When he went 
out I asked what it meant. “A collection for the Upper 
Silesians.” Here in Coblenz there are signs of activity on 
every hand also. This is a wonderful people, to turn to 
work as a panacea for defeat as well as for the most ter¬ 
rible money conditions. 

The Bagbys got me an invitation to a ball at General 
Allen’s house Friday night. You will exclaim “you surely 
did not go!” But I did! I rested, lying down most of 
the time, till Philip came for me, at eleven o’clock. As 


7i 


Through Old Eyes 

I had given away my evening dress, I had nothing to 
wear. I felt, however, that I had to do something un¬ 
usual, for going to a ball is an absolutely novel experi¬ 
ence for me. I could think of nothing better than to 
change my evening bath from a cold sponge to a real 
Japanese steaming hot one, in fact a regular parboiling. 
But in lying down in this super-heated water, I got my 
hair wet, and could not make it look even as well as usual. 
But I felt I had done the right thing! I then went to 
bed to prevent taking cold, but was thoroughly heated 
up for the whole evening. I certainly did not expect the 
slightest enjoyment during the hour we were to spend 
at the ball: I went simply out of curiosity and partly also 
to astonish my friends at home. Well, I enjoyed every 
moment of the time. Mrs. Allen is a gracious and charm¬ 
ing hostess. Philip put a comfortable armchair near the 
doorway leading into the ballroom, whence I could see 
the dancers; then he remained at my side. Mary also was 
with me when not dancing, and they introduced me to 
each of the guests as they filed by to the dance. A pleas¬ 
ant lady was seated at my side. Of course everyone must 
have wondered why that pallid, wrinkled old creature 
should have been in that throng of young life. I was so 
deaf too, that each person had to bend down and scream 
in my ear. The Commissioner, when I said to him: “I 
hear great complaints of your commission from the 
peasants,” had to lean over me as he pronounced loudly 
and emphatically, “They are all true, Madam.” “Let me 
specify,” I retorted: “They say the commission will not 
give licenses to carry weapons, and only a few permits to 


72 


A New World 


shoot game, so that the wild boar are destroying their 
crops and young trees.” The Commissioner: “I have been 
very anxious to kill a wild boar ever since coming here. 
My friends have taken me to their haunts, but I have 
never seen one.” “I got my information from a taxi 
driver and his friend seated beside him.” It is difficult 
for me to hear in a crowd, particularly where there is 
music and dancing, so I had to let a number of nice people 
acquire merit by devoting themselves unselfishly to me 
for a few minutes. The ball was given in honor of Lord 
Hardings whom, however, I did not see in the throng. 
He was very popular in India when I was there, and I 
see they are erecting a memorial of some kind in his honor 
at Bombay. His wife died while I was in India, and I 
felt her death, because it was through her that I got invi¬ 
tations to the native courts. As I believe that remarriage 
is the most sincere compliment a man can pay to his 
dead wife, I hope he has married again just to prove what 
a good wife the first one was. Carlyle rises to my mind, 
though his case is not exactly relevant here. He was at 
the height of his fame and intellectual vigor, had just 
made a famous speech before the students of Edinburgh 
when his wife died, and from that moment he became an 
utterly broken man. He could never see a fault in his 
Jane, though she mentions casually in a letter that she 
had thrown a cup of coffee at his head. Many sentimental 
women have grieved a lot over Mrs. Carlyle, whose bitter¬ 
ness arose from the fact that she had a husband who 
outshone her in aristocratic society. A good wife would 
have been proud of him! and recognized that meeting 


73 


Through Old Eyes 

literary celebrities at the Ashburtons’ was of inestimable 
value to him as a writer. But her egotism, like her tem¬ 
per, dominated her judgment. 

When I returned from the ball, not having my evening 
ablutions to attend to, I tumbled quickly into bed, and 
soon slept profoundly. But I can never escape entirely 
from regrets, or remorse, as the case may be. When we 
arrived before the Allen residence, an officer entirely in 
white with a gold cord ornamenting the front of his 
jacket, stood to receive us. Believing I had never seen 
this imposing personage before, I was afraid to look at 
him, and turned to Philip to help me out. Then while 
sitting at the doorway of the ballroom, the same dazzling 
young officer stood before me for some time, but except 
for a glance of curiosity at his handsome face, I did not 
notice him, only wondering why he was not presented to 
me. Now it turns out that he was no other than Betty’s 
conquest, whom I had seen daily at the Bagbys’ and with 
whom I had taken lunch only a day or two before. Still 
I had not the faintest idea who he was. No doubt he 
thought I was taking this fine occasion to cut him, a thing 
I have been accused of before, but in all my long life I 
have never felt it incumbent on me to cut any human 
being. This unfortunate singularity of not being able 
to recognize persons, whom I wish particularly to please, 
has been one of the trials of my life. I go daily to the 
Bagbys’. Of course, seeing so much of those two girls, 
Betty and Margaret, I have joined wholeheartedly the 
band of their admirers. Little Philip is always enter¬ 
taining. He is not self-conscious and is therefore natural 


74 


A New World 


and at his ease. Like the ancient Greeks, I look upon 
children as miracles. 

Mary Bagby is to take me to Mrs. Allen’s this after¬ 
noon to see her wonderfully beautiful home. The recep¬ 
tion rooms downstairs are numerous and spacious. There 
is an elevator and I hear that the twenty-one bedrooms 
are each furnished with a private bath. I never had the 
pleasure of knowing Philip Bagby before and find him 
an exceptionally fine man, most highly esteemed by his 
brother officers and the men. But we avoid talking poli¬ 
tics, as we do not agree there. 


Constance, Baden, 
August 28, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

I left Coblenz last Monday after a delightful visit. 
That dear Philip got a permit for his car to go alongside 
the train, which saved me a considerable walk. Then 
he put me in the military compartment as far as Mayence. 
I could have lain down the whole time, but the panorama 
outside was too entrancing. I had to look out at the 
winding Rhine with its castled crags and nestling villages, 
whose names were so well known to me long ago. There 
were some distinguished French passengers in the same 
coupe, so the time passed rapidly. They left at Mayence 
and it was my luck to be followed still by romance, when 
a young couple, fresh from the altar, came into the train. 
We were alone in the compartment, and I was very dis¬ 
creet; I lay down covered with my steamer rug and kept 
my eyes shut while they cooed the hours away in low 


75 


Through Old Eyes 

murmured vows. I dared not even look at the lovely 
scenery, so afraid was I of embarrassing them. We ar¬ 
rived at Constance at ten o’clock that night. Magda, 
Frieda, and the maid were all at the station to meet me. 
When the joyful greetings were over, I turned to ask 
for the carriage. They said the way was so short they 
had not ordered one. The night was lovely with a full 
moon and the air fresh, but I found myself deluded as to 
the distance, and had to sit on the curb to rest before we 
got to the house. Under my window flows the Rhine, 
where it leaves the lake. I can get a view, too, of the 
lake by stretching out my head. Opposite my window is 
a wonderful old tower, entrance to a former bridge. The 
picturesque Insel Hotel, a former monastery, where Sed- 
ley and I once stayed, is very near here. 

How can I tell you of our heated discussions in those 
first days? We resolved and re-resolved not to mention 
the war, yet fatally we came back to it. They all hate 
the Kaiser, at least Magda and Frieda assured me of that. 
I told them, alas, many home truths, and Frieda said, 
with deep sorrow: “You are always against Germany.” 
“Frieda,” I said, “how can you judge of the conduct or 
of the causes of the war, when you had no free press in 
your country?” We talked until I would become per¬ 
fectly exhausted, but there was no use. The faith im¬ 
planted in them lives on in spite of evidence, as all faith 
does. They maintain that Germany was attacked and 
that England did most of the devastation in France. 
The English, I learned during my railway journey 
through the devastated regions, had destroyed one town 


76 


A New World 


when sorely pressed by numbers. This was sufficient to 
warrant a belief among the Germans that it was, after 
all, the English who were most guilty in the devastation 
of French territory. These people have suffered so 
much that I haven’t the heart to combat them any further. 
Their money purchases so little, their food is so plain 
and coarse, so different from their former Choice and 
generous fare. They eat mostly soup made of beans or 
cabbage, or some kind of macaroni. Magda serves 
special dishes for me and I am ashamed to say I feel 
forced to accept them. I pay board in German money 
but the equivalent of dollars, which appears to them al¬ 
most munificent. Poor Magda, to whom I had never 
paid board before, hated dreadfully to take it, though 
I am sure her husband’s salary is very small for I over¬ 
heard her say it fell short some months of their expenses. 
She does all the cooking, but has an excellent maid of all 
work to whom she pays a dollar and a half a month, and 
thinks it is extremely dear, though the girl begins her 
work at six and keeps it up until half-past eight in the 
evening. Magda’s husband has changed more than either 
his wife or daughter. He used to be so strong physically. 
In the Autumn he went shooting a great deal and at that 
season always had the choicest game on his table. They 
had bought a beautiful villa in the suburbs of Strass- 
bourg, Frieda told me. Her father never doubted that 
Germany would win. I could not help exclaiming: 
“What! When America went in? And every able- 
bodied man was conscripted?” She went on without, ap¬ 
parently, noticing my interruption: “When the end came, 


77 


Through Old Eyes 

he was completely overwhelmed. Then he was expelled 
from Strassbourg, and his property sequestered. ,, Herr 
Geheimrat told me that for months he never had one 
night’s sleep, only a kind of confusion in his thoughts, a 
momentary unconsciousness, and then wakefulness again. 
It was when, at last, he got work here in Constance, that 
he began to improve and had natural sleep. The doctor 
tells him his heart is bad and that he must be very care¬ 
ful. He is a completely broken man, speaks softly and 
moves about very slowly. He no longer appears tall as 
formerly, and the skin of his face is drawn, dark and 
tanned, so unlike his old freshness and vigor. Frieda 
tells me of her experiences in Berlin. She says in the 
winter of T6 and T7 it began to be very bad there. The 
snow was not cleaned from the streets, for people were 
beginning to suffer too much from cold and hunger, and 
she thinks, perhaps, too many men were drafted off to the 
army. Everybody had cards for everything. She had 
to stand in the melting snow and wait for a small portion 
of bread and potatoes. She also got a small piece of 
butter, but this she gave to little Felix, as did her old 
servant. The succeeding winters became worse and 
worse. They had to live mostly on turnips, planted for 
cattle, which became so nauseous that she could hardly 
swallow them. The potatoes were often spoiled and un¬ 
eatable. She thinks she would have starved to death had 
not some friends smuggled in provisions from the coun¬ 
try, which were, however, dreadfully dear. The woman 
who delivered her newspaper had five children and was 
often so weak from starvation she could not come, but 


78 


A New World 


lay in bed, cold and hungry, with her children. Frieda 
says she herself was literally always cold and hungry in 
winter, could think of nothing but food. In summer it 
was better. She could then find something at the market, 
but the winters were fearful. Then came the news of the 
Revolution, one prince after the other losing his throne; 
and at the market the women were crying out, “Now we 
can get something to eat! Now we shall see butter and 
eggs again! Now we shall no longer starve!” And 
there was great rejoicing among the poor. Magda says 
the Kaiser has no friends: the people hate him because he 
was such a coward. He came to Berlin and was afraid 
of his people there. Then he returned to his army and 
finally ran away from his soldiers. I do not talk much 
to Herr Geheimrat. He looks so sorrowful and subdued. 
I haven’t the heart to thrust any more home truths down 
his throat. He has had enough bitter medicine, but I 
sometimes allow myself to speak as though quite casually 
of the wonderful effort of the American people, of men 
who had made great fortunes, working for the Govern¬ 
ment for a dollar a year, and performing the most splen¬ 
did services. I say this and more too while Magda listens 
in quiet sorrow. I tell her and Frieda that they cannot 
judge of what has occurred, because they were kept wil¬ 
fully deceived. I tell them also of my deep conviction 
that one day Germany will be far greater than ever before, 
but not through militarism. Her glory will lie along the 
pathway of literature, music, art and science. She will 
then love those she now hates, and this will be brought 
about quite naturally by her gifted sons and daughters. 


79 


Through Old Eyes 

Witness the reception of Einstein in England, where one 
of the foremost men of that country declared him to be 
the most remarkable man born into the world for the last 
five hundred years. I said the suffering people of Con¬ 
tinental Europe reminded me of those unfortunate ani¬ 
mals which some cruel human brute tied together. The 
poor creatures in their torment blamed each other for 
their woes and fought till all were killed. Such is the 
tragedy of these peoples whose leaders have led them 
astray. Peace alone which promotes fruitful intercourse 
between nations will bring mutual understanding and 
good will. 

I notice in my paper that an English professor has been 
lecturing in the United States about the true historical 
Lincoln, and I think from the fragments reported of his 
lecture, that he has overlooked the real greatness of the 
man, and that his criticism is unworthy. The great moral 
excellence of Lincoln lay in his wonderful humility, and in 
his single-minded desire to serve his people, his whole 
people. His high office inspired no thought of grandeur 
or of display in his heart which was mostly torn and 
tortured by anxiety. Would to Heaven there were some 
of the Lincoln brand of statesmanship in our Senate to¬ 
day! Might not ignoble motives wither in those pure 
rays ? and would the world be still waiting in vain for its 
deliverer? What did the professor charge him with, 
after all, except that he laughed at coarse jokes? Did not 
Shakespeare do likewise? I told a rather coarse joke 
myself to Felix last evening at supper, and to hear that 
poor old sorrowful Geheimrath laugh so heartily did me 


8o 


A New World 


good. I told Felix of the first letter I ever wrote. My 
Mother ordered me to write to my Grandmother, whom 
I had never seen. It was a hard proposition, and when 
I implored her for something to write about, she merely 
answered, lightly and carelessly: “Tell her I am as great 
a hog after fruit as ever.” So I wrote conscientiously 
and laboriously: “Dear Grandma, Ma is just as great a 
hog as she always was. Your grandchild, Mary.” 


Constance, 

Sept. 3, 1921. 

I had hoped to hear some account of Frieda's husband, 
of whom I knew nothing except that he had been killed 
very early in the war. But I came too late for that theme. 
Frieda is engaged to be married and the ceremony will 
take place in October. She is to marry a Dr. Behr who 
owns a sanitarium in Kissingen, a widower with one 
child, a girl of fourteen. Frieda will make an excellent 
stepmother because she is both just and indulgent. She 
has gone to Munich to buy a trousseau. I gave her one 
thousand marks to help in this. They cost me only four¬ 
teen dollars, but she declared it a princely gift. Dr. 
Behr saw Frieda during her married life and was so im¬ 
pressed with her fine qualities that he could never forget 
her. When she was left a widow, he began to write to 
her, but she did not answer his letters. Patience, how¬ 
ever, and the manifest advantages of marrying a fine man 
who was well able to support her and little Felix, won the 
day for the doctor. (Frieda would doubtless say that 


8i 


Through Old Eyes 

love won the day.) I am sorry she had to leave us, as 
she has developed into a most capable and intelligent 
woman, very strong physically, too. I miss her very 
much but I shall be leaving here soon. I have had a letter 
from the Dorpowskas at Weimar. Hedwig writes that 
they will have a room for me. I boarded with them a 
whole winter in Berlin, and we corresponded for some 
years. The three sisters are highly cultivated, interesting 
and very unselfish. I can never forget the disinterested 
care they took of me. The old Excellenz was then living. 
She waked me every morning at five (and five is very 
early in Berlin in winter), when she began to polish every 
article of furniture in the adjoining dining-room, a fold¬ 
ing-door between. In fact my room was a parlor, which, 
though disguised, preserved all the inconveniences, in¬ 
cluding many potted plants in front of the windows. 
That five o’clock furniture polishing was torture. But 
in spite of this terrible nuisance I would not leave a house 
where everything else was so agreeable. Nellie is to join 
me in Weimar and accompany me to Constantinople. 

I shall not see Frieda again. Her happy marriage 
ought to be a consolation to her parents. It is sorely em¬ 
barrassing to me to have separate dishes at table, but 
there is no help for it. Yesterday they had a thick bean 
soup which I tasted and found very unpalatable. There 
was nothing else for the family except a dessert of risen 
bread, sweetened, made by Magda. She says this fare is 
so much better than it has been that they are satisfied. 
Once a week they have a little beef from which soup is 
made, then the meat is minced into a paste and converted 


82 


A New World 


into croquettes. Magda is a very fine cook and these 
croquettes are excellent. The piece of meat served me is 
always the choicest of its kind. I eat most sparingly so 
that it lasts me two days. My breakfast is a cold roll 
and very weak tea. I do not share the half past ten 
o’clock snack with the family nor the four o’clock coffee. 
The latter looks like a substitute and is drunk without 
sugar, the milk thin and blue. Magda dries the peelings 
of the apples she stews for me. We have lettuce often 
but I cannot detect any oil on it. 

Last week I took an excursion with Felix as a 
companion, and he carried my steamer rug. He 
is only seven, but very intelligent. He bought 
the tickets and brought back the right change. 
The weather was ideal. We could see the snow moun¬ 
tains of Switzerland and the air was still and clear, the 
lake wonderful. I told Magda on my return that I found 
it impossible to satisfy Felix’s appetite. She laughed 
heartily over the amount he had consumed and his con¬ 
stantly recurring hunger. Magda never gives Felix any 
sugar in what he eats, not even on his oatmeal in the 
morning. I believe we give our children too much sugar. 
It must disturb the sugar factory which nature has pro¬ 
vided within us. For supper we have a very simple white 
cheese, rice or potatoes, but no one has white bread but 
me. Everybody has butter for supper. Today Herr 
Geheimrath and I had each a cup of good soup for dinner. 
The others had nothing but boiled potatoes and carrots, 
no dessert. Sometimes Magda varies the sweetened risen 
bread with pastry, made by her, for dessert at dinner. I 


Through Old Eyes 83 

have dwelt so much on food because this family formerly 
lived in luxury, especially of the table. 

The plain people of Germany are wonderfully good- 
hearted. The landlord and his wife at the landing where 
we left the boat were most attentive to me. It was a very 
beautiful spot with such a wealth of flowers in the garden 
bordering the lake. I wish we could get a few of these 
fine German servants, who work from six to half-past 
eight in the evening, which is not looked upon as a crime 
in this country. On September first our good Theresa 
left us. I put a twenty mark note in her hand. She left 
the room without looking at it. Then she returned to 
say she did not have a right to so much, that it was far 
too much. She had served me faithfully for ten days 
and the marks had cost me thirty-one cents! I explained 
my munificence by saying she was to be married and that 
she was a good girl for whom I hoped much happiness. 
Our new girl happens to have the same name, Theresa, 
but I miss the old smiling one. This one always looks 
so serious. She lost her fiance in the war. 

If the Disarmament Conference in Washington this 
autumn turns out as successful as it promises, I shall be¬ 
come a Harding admirer. I think America should set 
the example by recalling our troops from Germany. I 
am, always and everywhere, opposed to troops being 
quartered on an enemy country. Do the Allies really hope 
to extort a huge and unlimited indemnity from Germany 
while overwhelming her with the financial burden of a 
great army of occupation, the expense of which the 
German Government must pay in gold? It doesn’t look 


8 4 


A New World 


like sincere politics to me. The great popular demon¬ 
strations everywhere in favor of the Republic, occasioned 
by the assassination of Erzberger, will have, I hope, a 
good effect in foreign countries. The German people 
understand better than the upper classes the inferior 
moral and intellectual type of their Kaiser. I remember 
the words of that German I met in Bankok: “I fear the 
Kaiser will lead Germany to ruin.” Some of the leaders 
of the Proletariat seem to be very able men. 


Weimar, 
Sept. 9, 1921. 

Before I left, Magda in her talks with me mentioned 
again that the English had devastated France. As it was 
my last chance to reason with her, I could not refrain 
from saying: “In the heat and pressure of battle when 
villages and towns are destroyed, the world can under¬ 
stand. But when defeated armies are evacuating a land 
they can no longer hold, then to devastate whole regions 
and provinces, flooding mines, carrying off everything 
portable, after having driven the wretched inhabitants 
from their homes to dynamite and burn them, this is 
both hard to understand and to forgive. Yet this is what 
the German armies were forced to do by order of their 
officers. Were there no officers in those armies to fore¬ 
see that Germany would be forced to pay for that de¬ 
struction? There certainly was no statesmanship among 
them.” Magda had never heard this. I see so much 
now in independent newspa ers about the immense pro- 


85 


Through Old Eyes 

paganda of hate and falsehood carried on in each coun¬ 
try during the war, that I see that universal deception 
was practised as a necessary war measure. I am now 
hearing from the Germans of so much cruelty inflicted 
upon their soldiers, which is, in a measure, corroborated 
by Americans I have talked to, that I am forced to be¬ 
lieve that all these horrors are a necessary consequence 
of the brutalizing effect of war, especially when the men 
are fed up with accounts of atrocities perpetrated by 
their enemies. 

All the family accompanied me to the station last Mon¬ 
day, the Geheimrath, Magda, little Felix and the good 
servant, Theresa. I traveled second class, and was in a 
coupe with only a young girl. I could have lain down 
the whole time but the views were too entrancing for that. 
At Stuttgart, I had to get out to take the sleeper. The 
young girl was loath to see me leave and I was sorry too, 
that I had engaged a sleeper. We were in a coupe for 
ladies only, and there seemed no prospect of anyone else 
joining us. But I had to get out, bag and baggage, and 
stand some time waiting for the other train. I thought I 
was to be in a first-class sleeper and was disappointed to 
find my reservation was for second class. The compart¬ 
ment was scrupulously clean, but I had to share it with 
another lady. She was a good woman, however, and I 
soon got interested in her. The train arrived at 4.57 
next morning, but it did not stop. It was the Berlin 
express and I was the only passenger for Weimar. The 
conductor rushed out with all my belongings, then he 
seized me round the waist and pulled me out, running 


86 


A New World 


fast with me before we could stop. I had promised him 
money, but I was so confused and dazed and the poor man 
in such a hurry to regain his train, that he got nothing. 
I was really inconsolable for a while, for he deserved a 
good fee. Two of the Dorpowska sisters were waiting 
for me with a carriage, but when I reached the narrow 
exit and the agent demanded my ticket, I remembered 
that I had forgotten to ask for it and the conductor of 
the sleeper had not returned it. I was then told formally 
that I should not be allowed to leave the station. I ex¬ 
plained the dreadful hurry of my arrival and, when that 
failed to move him, I told it all over again, and continued 
to do so, with added details, until he was willing to give 
me some sort of advice. He then referred me to higher 
authority, which I reached at the top of a high flight of 
steps. Once up I told my story to several officials, all of 
whom seemed interested. I described myself and the 
poor conductor, flinging ourselves out of the rushing train, 
and asked how we could think of tickets in such a mo¬ 
ment. Then I said: “I am willing to explain all this as 
long as you care to listen, but please give me a seat for 
I am dead tired.” Then the highest official offered me a 
very comfortable chair in his office. My good friend, 
Hedwig von Dorpowska, was with me, gentle and patient, 
for she has suffered much. The offcial seemed interested 
and willing to listen indefinitely, till I said: “I am not 
only nearly eighty, but I am an invalid with a weak heart. 
It might be embarrassing for you to have me die on your 
hands.” This point of view gave him a means of escape, 
and he very politely and gladly got rid of me, we having 


87 


Through Old Eyes 

given our address so that if any other official wished to 
hear the sad story, he could take the deposition in my 
bedroom. We then hurried home and I got to bed. Hed- 
wig brought me hot oatmeal with milk and sugar. 

I am taken every care of by these unselfish and de¬ 
voted sisters. They tell me that at the end of the war, 
Fred Werlein of New Orleans, by sending packages of 
provisions, saved them from starvation. They are very 
grateful to her. I had no idea where they lived; besides 
the papers declared it was not true the Germans were in 
such dire straits. No one knew what to believe. When 
Alva Blaffer collected for the starving German children, I 
contributed without knowing with certainty whether the 
need were great or not. It certainly was, from what my 
friends here tell me. They suffered from continual hun¬ 
ger, and the coarse field turnips became nauseating to 
them. They all believe the war was forced on Germany. 
They have no love for the Hohenzollerns. They despise 
the Kaiser for his cowardice. When they speak of the 
French, it is with the utmost bitterness. I assure them 
the French are actuated by intense fear of Germany. I 
say: “You should blame the United States for refusing 
to promise protection to France in case of wanton aggres¬ 
sion from Germany, which would have benefited Ger¬ 
many even more than France, would, in fact, have elimi¬ 
nated most of the wars and a great part of the military 
expenditures of Europe since the Armistice. Nor would 
it have cost the United States one more dollar, or the life 
of one soldier.” They refuse to say anything against my 
country. I made them laugh heartily by describing how 


88 


A New World 


ignorant the Americans used to be of European politics. 
I told them that when I arrived in Germany in 1883, I 
found general indignation prevailing against the United 
States, and even Americans living here were ashamed of 
their country. A Socialist deputy of the German Parlia¬ 
ment named Lasker, undertook a tour of America, where 
he died. When the news reached Washington, one of our 
congressmen arose to announce the fact, and proposed to 
send a letter of condolence to the German Chancellor, Bis¬ 
marck, regarding the moment as highly opportune to do 
honor to the German Empire in the person of the dead 
deputy. Congress approved entirely of this cheap manner 
of honoring a great nation. A document conveying the 
sympathy of the United States was duly despatched to 
Bismarck. Now Lasker was his most detested and bitter 
enemy in the Reichstag. The whole of Germany had 
watched the duel between these two great protagonists 
of autocracy and socialism. Bismarck didn’t know 
whether the letter of condolence was serious or intended 
to mystify him. This was much discussed while I was 
in Hanover. Of course, I was silly enough to take the 
matter seriously. It was simply funny, and only showed 
how innocent we Americans were. I told my friends, 
also about the Reinsch affair. The Kaiser himself insti¬ 
tuted exchange professorships. Our authorities thought 
it a fine compliment to send our well-known German 
professor, Dr. Reinsch, to Berlin as exchange professor. 
Dr. Reinsch had distinguished himself in the United 
States and was also an English scholar. Now professors 
in Germany, however famous abroad, were not received 


8 9 


Through Old Eyes 

at court. The Kaiser, however, felt himself bound to 
invite Dr. Reinsch and his wife to certain court func¬ 
tions. Thereupon the Berlin professors sent in a strong 
protest. Dr. Reinsch was a University man and a Ger¬ 
man : so were they. Why then, this discrimination 
against them ? They could see no valid reason for it, nor 
their wives, either. So some exceptions had to be made 
and certain representatives of the University had to be 
invited, but this could not be extended to their wives. 
There was much heartburning which could have been 
avoided, perhaps, had an American of distinguished merit 
been chosen. I created much merriment also by asking 
the Dorpowskas if they had ever heard of Einstein, their 
countryman. Herr Geheimrath had never heard of him, 
nor Magda. I said I thought it amazing that Germans 
had never heard of a man who was proclaimed by scien¬ 
tific men of other lands ‘‘to be the greatest intellect born 
on earth for the last five hundred years.” I told them he 
was a Jew and asked if they were not thoroughly ashamed 
never to have heard of him. They only laughed at this, 
for Jews are hated in Germany. I read the following 
in an editorial of the Paris “Matin”: “When the memories 
of the Great War shall have faded into the background, 
the theory of Einstein will appear as a lighthouse at the 
entrance to this sad and small twentieth century.” 

These sisters are spoiling me dreadfully and it is very 
embarrassing too. I have the tenderest partridges, 
smothered in butter, and other delicious things, not even 
desired by me. But the more I protest, the more they 
do for me. I can find no way to stop their extravagance. 


90 


A New World 


Weimar, 
Sept. 17, 1921. 

Nellie arrived last night just at supper time, and pro¬ 
duced some commotion in our little household. The three 
sisters are too poor to pay for service. They do every¬ 
thing themselves. They had to drag another bed into 
my room and make it up. You cannot imagine the dire 
poverty of all those whose incomes are fixed. The work¬ 
ing classes have their wages increased from time to time 
and also the officials. What I have been paying the Dor- 
powskas is, I hope, a help to them and I have advised 
them to save as much as possible for the winter. I really 
do not know how they are to get along if prices continue 
to rise as they must, for Germany is forced to buy gold 
for her foreign obligations with paper money. I was 
never taken better care of in my life, for these sisters are 
very conscientious and unselfish. They beg me not to 
pay them so much and insist that they are robbing me. 
We have the most delicious pears I ever tasted, so sweet 
and tender, fine vegetables too, and stewed fruit. So you 
see they do more than earn what is paid them. But the 
great service is that they roll me, every day, in a chair I 
have rented, around these beautiful parks, which are very 
near us. I said, and did, all I could to induce them to 
hire a man for me. They insist on doing the work them¬ 
selves. Were this chair like the one I had in Paris and 
Versailles, which almost went of itself, all would be 
smooth sailing, but this old veteran is stiff in his joints. 
It is moreover of a very old pattern, with much iron in its 
anatomy. It takes two of the sisters to push it. I get 


9i 


Through Old Eyes 

out and sit on the benches in the park where we have long 
conversations. I get out also when the path or street is 
steep, and walk slowly up. Goethe laid out this beautiful 
park. Day before yesterday we stopped to see the little 
children exercising under the supervision of their 
teachers. I have never seen such beautiful exercises for 
children of six years, and was told that the one I admired 
so much was taken from the opera of Hansel and Gretel 
by Humperdinck. He has composed music for the chil¬ 
dren’s songs of Germany, and I want to buy the book to 
take home to my grandchildren. We went along the river 
Ilm which flows through the park. There we came to the 
statue of Shakespeare, ordered by Goethe. Perhaps the 
latter advised the sculptor as to the attitude, the age, and 
so forth. A gentleman and some ladies stood before it. 
I was deeply moved by the beauty, the vigor, and thought 
represented in this work of art. The sun had gone down, 
but the statue is strikingly white and clean, as though 
just from the hands of its maker. It seems that during 
the fury of anti-English war propaganda, a band of row¬ 
dies had blackened it completely. It was difficult to free 
it from the black paint, but success was attained. The 
gentleman, with whom we spoke, expressed surprise at 
my coming so far at my age, but I said I was determined 
to see Germany again before I died. He exclaimed with 
much feeling: “And what a Germany you have come to 
see, and what a Government you find here! Oh, poor, 
poor Deutschland!” I exclaimed, “Can you expect much 
from a Government which you, the cultivated classes, 
refuse to sustain, and expect it to put offices of trust 


92 


A New World 


in the hands of those who combat it with every weapon, 
legitimate or otherwise? We Americans associate Im¬ 
perialism with war, and we are dead set against another 
war. It was your militarism which united the world 
against you. Give that up and you have everything to 
gain.” I added that “Germany undoubtedly would yet 
lead the world not only in art, literature and science, 
but above all, in progressive government.” I was glad 
to lead the conversation into other channels, for cultivated 
Germans regard their proletariat Government as a dread¬ 
ful humiliation. When we parted, the gentleman shook 
hands and said: “I shall repeat your words to my 
friends.” 

These charming excursions in my rolling-chair give 
me immense pleasure. Weimar is such a lovely little 
city. The sisters have taken me around the old and new 
castles near houses made famous by Goethe, Liszt and 
distinguished painters and writers. The avenues are 
beautiful. In one of them stands the house of Admiral 
Scheer who commanded the German fleet at the battle 
Jutland. The Germans call it Skagerak. Some months 
ago, the Scheer family were gathered in their sitting- 
room, awaiting the maid with the afternoon coffee. She 
did not come, so Mrs. Scheer went downstairs to learn 
the cause of the delay. As she did not return, the young 
lady daughter went in search of her mother. The 
Admiral, thinking no harm, remained quiet for some 
time, when he too started out to investigate. His wife 
and the servant lay dead in the basement. His daughter 
was terribly wounded, while the assassin lay dead not 


93 


Through Old Eyes 

far from his last victim. Seated in my rolling-chair 
before this house, and hearing this story, which I had 
read at the time in brief newspaper notices, was thrilling. 
That night I locked my door for the first time in Ger¬ 
many, but I have not done so since. I must tell you 
of the telegram which Admiral Beatty sent to Admiral 
Scheer. He began by addressing him as the victor m 
the great naval battle where so many noble ships, with 
their thousands of men, went down. Then he expressed 
his deep sympathy for the bereaved man. Now was not 
that magnanimous? We all who speak English have a 
right to be proud of such a man. It was Hedwig who 
told me of this telegram. 

Nellie has of course won the hearts of the sisters 
completely. She was extremely entertaining last night 
over the supper table. She had met on the train a Ger¬ 
man lady who lived twenty years in China and spoke 
English perfectly. So she and Nellie threshed out 
various questions on which they held radically different 
views. At last the lady, fearing she had gone too far, 
and wishing to atone, said: “Of course I know there 
are many fine Americans. For instance, I met an old 
lady traveling alone around the world. It was in Nikko. 
She had already made the world tour many years before 
with her son,” and so forth. Nellie listened in astonished 
silence, recognizing her old aunt. But the German lady, 
eager to make amends for what might well have been 
construed as rudeness, endowed me with such wonderful 
qualities and attractions, that though Nellie promised her 
I should write and answer the card she sent me, I have 


94 


A New World 


no desire to do so, and shall certainly get out of it. I 
shall make Nellie write. She is to be my “Harris” on 
this trip, do the sight-seeing for me; and as she met this 
over-flattering lady and told her she was coming to join 
me, she can very well be trusted to tell her that I am 
a poor old wreck, deaf, feeble of vision, memory im¬ 
paired, and all the rest of my infirmities. 

5 Buchfarter Strasse, Weimar, 

Sept. 17, 1921. 

The great sin the Germans accuse their Government 
of, is extravagance. The sisters had a visit a few days 
ago from a friend who received the same pension as old 
Excellenz von Dorpowska. The Government pays the 
three daughters a much smaller sum than to their mother, 
and the Hungarian bonds, which represent the greater 
part of their fortune, bring them nothing. This friend 
has no 'children, no human being dependent on her, has 
besides quite a large private fortune. Yet her pension 
has been greatly increased to meet the high cost of living, 
while the Dorpowskas, who are in such great need, are 
still paid the pre-war rate. Now the friend, knowing all 
these circumstances, bragged greatly about her house¬ 
keeping, said she gave her servant the best butter, and no 
oleomargarine, and continued her boasting during the 
entire visit. Martha von Dorpowska, who related this 
to me, said with deep feeling: “This friend always 
makes us sadder after her visits. Why does the Govern¬ 
ment give so much to the rich who do not need it, while 
the small pensions are not raised?” I wish I could send 


95 


Through Old Eyes 

boarders to them. They spend so freely upon us, that 
I have to protect them against their too generous in¬ 
stincts. Martha is a very fine and experienced teacher, 
speaking both English and French. 

Nellie has this moment returned from a visit to 
Goethe’s house. She is so enthusiastic over everything in 
Weimer it is a joy to have her here. 


Astoria Hotel, Leipzig, 
Sept. 24, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

We had to tear ourselves away from Weimar. Nellie 
was perfectly enthusiastic over her visit to the dear 
Dorpowskas. Hedwig went with her to Eisenach to see 
the Wartburg Castle where Luther was imprisoned and 
where he translated the Bible. She came back over¬ 
flowing with admiration for all she had seen. The 
big hall in the Castle is reproduced in the Opera of 
Tannhauser. 

The sisters work very hard. They do their washing 
little by little every day. In winter they bring in from 
the street their snow and ice-covered wood and coal, to 
store in the cellar. I fear the supply will grow less and 
less. Their food is very plain, their coffee a substitute, 
without sugar or cream. The fate of those with small 
fixed incomes is terrible under this regime of worthless 
paper money. Their best dresses were all sent them by 
Fred Werlein. Clothing over here is far too dear for their 
income. I hear that the peasants, though they have food, 
suffer for the lack of warm clothing. Nellie pushed me 


96 


A New World 


in the rolling-chair more easily than the two sisters to¬ 
gether. I enjoyed the rides in it through the parks more 
than I can tell you. 

We are here in the best hotel and pay for everything 
included, less than $2.00 a day each. Nellie left me for 
a trip of two days to Berlin. She returned last night with 
the liveliest accounts of her many adventures. We talked 
till late in the night. She wants to write a story called 
“Seven days a millionaire.” Traveling, board, sight¬ 
seeing, tipping, carriages all included, under twenty 
dollars. We always take the express train, and each of our 
trips has been a long one. The express is a good deal 
dearer than the slow train. It is three hours to Berlin 
by the express. Nellie made the acquaintance on the train 
to Potsdam of a girl who guided her over that place. 
The girl had lived there for years but had never been 
inside those palaces, couldn’t pay the fees. She was 
charmed to go about in a carriage and have all fees paid 
for her. Then the bedroom with breakfast cost only 
twenty-three marks, but she paid thirty, because she 
heard the wife say to her husband: “She can’t pay the 
price of our best room!” Nellie wore an old traveling 
dress and spent like a millionaire, in the opinion of these 
poor people, who still regard their marks with some¬ 
thing of the old respect. The cost of twenty dollars for 
a week’s extravagance included the trip from the Swiss 
border in the far South to Weimar, and from Weimar 
here, with go and return ticket to Berlin. When she is 
with me she travels second-class, which is excellent, but 
when alone, she travels third. As there is a fourth which 


97 


Through Old Eyes 

many well-dressed people now take, second stands for 
aristocratic in this country. Nellie insists that those 
who travel second in Germany are dreadfully “stuck-up,” 
and that she prefers third-class railway society. I should 
not object to third, but being obliged to lie down I must 
have cushioned seats, just like a bloated aristocrat. 

While Nellie was away, I undertook to tackle the 
thorny question of passports. Every one of these little 
nations is indignant with the United States for making 
their compatriots pay $10.00 to enter our country. So 
they not only collect ten dollars from visitors but from 
all those who traverse their lands. This would entail, 
between Leipzig and Constantinople, five passports for 
each of us. I went first to the Czechoslovak consul and 
explained to him that the United States was simply 
trying to exclude labor competing with our unemployed 
millions, whereas we American tourists came over here 
to spend our money. Another consideration being that 
travelers are kept out whose sympathetic reports might 
help in a measure to mould public opinion in the United 
States favorably to the people over here. I then said 
that I was too old and too infirm to travel alone, that it 
was I who paid the passports, and I regarded the charge 
as excessive and unjust for our hurried trip through so 
many countries, especially as I was making the tour for 
the sole purpose of reporting conditions to my friends at 
home. Well, he reduced the charge to less than one-half, 
and had you seen our parting you would have concluded 
that we were life-long friends. This was already a 
precedent when I went yesterday to the Austrian consul. 


98 


A New World 


The Austrians are so needy I feel dreadfully sorry for 
them, but keeping out tourists is not the road to pros¬ 
perity. He finally agreed to the same terms as the 
Czechoslovak consul. I shall rest on these successes till 
I get to Vienna. Nellie and I had to go to police head¬ 
quarters this morning for permission to leave Germany. 
It was a tedious business. I stretched out on four chairs 
while Nellie went hither and thither with the documents. 
Nellie agrees with me that the Germans are the most 
warm-hearted people in the world, that they are almost 
like children in their impulsive warmheartedness, but 
when she, encouraged by these alluring qualities, under¬ 
takes to prove to them that the Kaiser brought on the war, 
she meets with the most stubborn incredulity. In vain she 
marshals her facts against them. They repeat in sorrow; 
“No, no, Germany was attacked by Russia and France, 
then by England.” They are worse than Wordsworth’s 
little maid. We are in the “swell” hotel of Leipzig, con¬ 
sequently we speak to no one, sit at a small table all to 
ourselves. Blue-blooded aristocrats love this isolation 
from the common herd, but we do not. I said to the 
Austrian consul: “We are in the Astoria Hotel and we 
have not spoken a word to anyone except to bell boys, 
maids, porters and clerks. Please give me an address in 
Vienna of a good hotel, but one that is ‘gemuthlich.* 
After some telephoning, he secured an address which we 
are going to try. We parted with warm handshakings. 
What good people these are when not misled by a crazy 
Kaiser and boundlessly ambitious captains. Nellie and 
I shall carry our mission of persuasion from the Germans 


99 


Through Old Eyes 

to the Czechs who no doubt will be more amenable to 
reason, especially as to the Kaiser, but it is cruel to these 
heart-broken Germans, who are suffering for the neces¬ 
saries of life, to add to all the shame of defeat that of 
guilt. From the cradle to the grave they have been care¬ 
fully enveloped in an atmosphere of falsehood. How 
can we blame them ? I mean the masses, not the leaders. 

Vienna, 
Sept. 29, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

As usual, I was able to lie down as much as I needed 
between Leipzig and Prague. There was an interesting 
lady and her husband, also an intelligent German, in our 
compartment. The lady was going to a sanitarium for 
lung trouble. The husband looked very unhappy. Nellie 
had been struck with the beauty of the two children who 
bade their mother goodbye at the station. I lay down 
and paid no attention to any of them, Nellie, in the mean¬ 
time, carrying on an uninterrupted conversation with our 
fellow passengers. Finally she stirred me up to say the 
lady wanted me to write to her cousin, a banker in 
Galveston, to ask him to aid her with the heavy expenses 
of the sanitarium. The lady said her cousin must be 
very wealthy, because “he had lost two millions!” I 
promised to write to him, though it is a fixed principle 
with me never to ask anyone for money for any purpose 
whatever. I shall write, simply stating the case and 
nothing more. She was a singularly attractive person, 
with a smile which penetrated to one’s heart. Nellie had 


100 


A New World 


also a heart to heart talk with the German. He said 
the English army of occupation was absolutely blameless 
in its conduct to the population and government of the 
occupied districts. The French, he added, gave no 
reasonable grounds for complaint, but the American 
soldiers, he said, were a drunken, undisciplined lot of 
men. 

I was immensely relieved, on arriving at the Prague 
hotel, to find that a room had been reserved for us. All 
hotels seem to be eternally crowded in the cities we visit. 
The Prague hotel was rather primitive but comfortable. 
It was recommended to us as the best in the city. Next 
morning we took the electric tram to visit the Royal 
Castle on a commanding height in the suburbs. Our 
guide took us first to the ancient cathedral within the 
enclosure of the Castle. I no sooner got into this venera¬ 
ble Gothic pile than I lay down on a bare bench at full 
length. Nellie had to do the sight-seeing for me. She 
came from time to time to say that it was a most 
marvelous church, and well worth seeing. At last she 
came to announce that the tombs of fourteen Polish 
kings were there, side by side, ever so old and wonderful 
to behold. I told her to look at them for me, wondering 
at the same time how on earth fourteen Polish kings had 
got themselves buried in the Bohemian Royal Palace 
Cathedral of Prague. But it was a mistake, they were 
the monuments of fourteen Bohemian kings. From the 
Cathedral we went to the Royal Castle where there were 
so many steps to climb that I left sight-seeing to Nellie. 
I charged her not to miss the “definistration” room, where 


Through Old Eyes ioi 

the governors were thrown from the windows, which 
started the Thirty Years’ religious war of 1618-1648. 
None of the governors was killed in spite of the height, 
for they landed on a monumental pile of garbage! Sedley 
and I were particularly interested in this room when we 
visited Prague years ago. The concierge, at whose office 
I waited for Nellie, told me that Dr. Masaryk was ex¬ 
pected that evening and that he resided in the Castle 
when in Prague. Next day we took a carriage early for 
the whole morning. The sun was shining in a deep blue 
sky, the air crisp and cool. Prague looked beautiful. 
We visited a small and very ancient Jewish temple in 
the Ghetto quarter, which is said to be the oldest temple 
in Europe. The old graveyard nearby, with the dead 
buried one above the other in the crowded space, offers 
visible testimony to the sufferings of this persecuted race. 
The Ghetto hospital was removed only a few years ago. 
Thus the sick, the dead and the toilers in this unhealthy 
beehive were ever together, the Ghetto their living tomb. 
When we reached Wallenstein’s house Nellie suggested 
that I go on in the carriage to the Castle and ask for an 
interview with Dr. Masaryk. I did so, but the time could 
hardly have been worse chosen. The President had 
been called to town the evening before because of a 
change of ministers and was at that moment receiving 
the new cabinet. His secretary seemed very sorry that 
I was disappointed and offered to answer any questions 
to the best of his ability. But next day when we took 
the train, we got acquainted with such a cultivated and 
interesting man, one so superior in intelligence to the 


102 


A New World 


Secretary, that I prefer to give you later the substance 
of his conversation. When I returned to the Wallenstein 
house, Nellie told me it would interest me extremely. As 
I had read Schiller's three plays with him as the central 
figure, also much about him in history, I was more 
anxious to see his house than anything else in Prague. 
But the woman guide was at dinner and would not admit 
another party until two o’clock. So I again had to be 
satisfied with Nellie’s description. That night, in re¬ 
viewing the events of the day, Nellie went into fits of 
laughter over my manner of sightseeing, recalling how 
I had spent my time in that superb Gothic cathedral of 
the fifteenth century, stretched on a bare bench, and then 
on four chairs in the concierge’s office, while she went 
over the palace. I joined in the laugh and agreed with 
her that it was an odd way to see the memorials of a 
long-buried past. I observed, moreover, that it was 
pleasant to think that she had made her first visit to 
Europe with me and was probably now making her last 
one with me, after an interval of more than thirty years. 
We took our midday meal each day at the largest and 
best restaurant in Prague, and each time we had a pleasant 
conversation with some one at our table. One charming 
gentleman was from Slovakia. He told us that before 
the war the Hungarians were very intent upon introduc¬ 
ing their language into the schools of all the different 
nationalities under their rule. They began at first with 
high schools, colleges and so forth, but later the primary 
schools were also brought into line, so that in the end 
Hungarian was forcibly introduced into the whole system 


103 


Through Old Eyes 

of education of the various peoples under the rule of 
Hungary. The poor little Slav children had to learn a 
language different from any other in the world, which 
could not possibly be of use to them outside of Hungary. 
He had been obliged to study at a Hungarian University, 
had to learn his profession in Hungarian. “But,” I 
said, “I hear the Slovakians are discontented with the 
Prague government.” He answered: “The Hungarians 
are passionately devoted to the Catholic Church, and so 
are the Slovakians. The new church formed in Bohemia, 
which has thrown off the authority of the Pope, abolished 
celibacy of the priesthood, and holds its services in the 
Czech language, has been used as propaganda against the 
government among the fanatical adherents of the 
Catholic church in Slovakia.” This new church is not, 
however, connected with the State in any way, he assured 
me. 

Vienna, 
Sept. 30, 1921, 

We left Prague at 7105 a.m., necessitating a very early 
breakfast. On the train was the gentleman to whom I 
have already alluded, with his son and daughter. When 
I said to Nellie: “I am going to ask the gentleman near 
me at what hour we are to reach Vienna,” Nellie made 
her usual answer: “No, you are not to speak to him. 
The conductor can give us all the necessary information.” 
As I can do so little sight-seeing and must trust to the 
people I meet to give me information, I replied: “Nellie, 
you invariably forbid me to speak to people on the train 
and in the restaurants. And yet after I do so, you do 


104 


A New World 


by far the most talking, in fact, you become enthusiasti¬ 
cally friendly with them.” This was so true she had to 
laugh. Our new acquaintance turned out to be one of 
the ministers of the Railway Administration, and without 
doubt was the best-informed man we have met. He has 
a country-place with a very big orchard, and cultivates 
fruit trees with passionate interest. He asked Nellie 
about Burbank and the fruits of California, about which 
they had a long talk. He took down his suitcase and 
brought out a large box of home grown fruit, beautiful 
apples and prunes, which he shared with us. His prunes 
were delicious to eat fresh, which the German prunes are 
not. He told us he belonged to the new church which 
they call “national,” because, he said, the movement for 
it is really national. I said: “I thought Bohemia was 
intensely Catholic.” He replied: “We have never for¬ 
gotten how cruelly our population was exterminated dur¬ 
ing the religious wars. Catholicism was forced on us then 
and we were fearfully oppressed. This is a national move¬ 
ment in memory of those bitter persecutions. I am a 
member of the new church and my wife is also, but our 
children are Catholics.” I expressed my surprise. He 
said: “It is because of the schools.” I told him what 
a gentleman had said to me in Prague, “I was born and 
brought up a Catholic and I shall die in that church.” 
The last gentleman seemed a very fine man too, but 
perhaps he had not read so much history. It was truly 
surprising to me that the Catholic Bohemians should 
still hold in reverence their Protestant heroes, Huss and 
his followers, and that they should still resent the war 


105 


Through Old Eyes 

of extermination waged against them so long ago. The 
charming gentleman from Slovakia whom we met in the 
restaurant, told us also that the portraits of Wilson and 
Dr. Masaryk were to be seen in almost every home in 
Slovakia. He said Dr. Masaryk was loved and respected 
by all parties, even by those in political opposition to him. 
I asked our new acquaintance about the tales I had heard 
of the persecution of Mrs. Masaryk and her daughter by 
the Austrians during the war. He said the Austrians 
regarded Dr. Masaryk as a traitor and, not being able to 
seize him, they interned his wife and daughter. They 
were not furnished with the proper food, and all inter¬ 
course with the outside world was denied them. The 
peasants, however, managed to smuggle food into their 
house and his own brother-in-law had succeeded in bring¬ 
ing money to them. He was amused when I told him of 
the unpropitious moment I had chosen for an interview 
with Dr. Masaryk, when the automobiles stood thick 
before the door and the ministers were there, not only 
for a change of premiers, but for a change of policy 
with Hungary. I had just read about it in the morning 
paper. He knew them all, and his conversation was so 
interesting that we felt great regret when he left us. 
Meantime a Viennese gentleman had come in, with whom 
we soon began a conversation. He said: “We should 
have won the war but for you Americans.” I assured 
him that we thought so in the United States. Then we 
threshed out the old question of those guilty of bringing 
on the war. I said: “Whoever brought it on, the 
Kaiser brought the United States into it.” 


io6 


A New World 


When we took the carriage that afternoon under a 
blue sky, the sun still shining, I thought I had never seen 
Vienna look so beautiful. Nellie was in an ecstatic state 
of mind over it, as it was her first visit. This hotel is 
near the center of the city. We drove through streets 
on which stand some of the most imposing buildings of 
the world, and Vienna in her misery is still clean and 
tidy. But we feel oppressed with the thought of this 
unhappy people so hopelessly burdened with debts they 
can never hope to pay, and which shackle their every 
movement to better themselves. It seemed to me that 
every face was mournful. Our first night in this hotel 
was spent in an inside room which was very depressing, 
but next day we were given a large sunny front room. 
The restaurant is very fine and reasonable. 

Yesterday I called at the Hungarian Consulate. The 
Consul, Count W., received me in his private office where 
I found him alone. The whole Consulate, with its two 
big Hungarian guards in front, looked lonely. As there 
is war between Austria and Hungary over the Burgen- 
land this solitude is not singular. I was glad to see the 
Consul show a decided disposition for conversation as 
that is about all I am capable of now. He began by 
saying: “Tell me about Wilson. I hate him and his 
fourteen points.” Although I was not there to enter the 
lists for Wilson, I said: “Perhaps you do not know that 
for two years before Wilson retired from the White 
House he was politically powerless.” I then explained 
why that was and continued: “I regretted at the time, 
and have done so ever since, that he did not accept the 


Through Old Eyes 107 

compromise of the Senate on the League of Nations. 
The important thing in this world is to get things born, 
just as it would be to get a child born, who was to be a 
future ruler. After that all-important and necessary 
event we can trust the child, or the League of Nations, 
to grow and develop according to the changing environ¬ 
ment. I think, in short, that Wilson was too uncom¬ 
promising. Yet no doubt he felt himself bound by 
pledges.” We then came to speak of my last trip around 
the world. He asked when I was in China. I replied, 
“In 1912.” He: “Oh, I was there that very year. Who 
was your ambassador?” I saw I was being catechized 
and for a moment Mr. Calhoun’s name escaped me. But 
I recovered my memory, thanks to the well-known name 
of Calhoun. I related that I had had an interview with 
Yuan Shi Kai owing to Mr. Calhoun’s influence. I said 
those three years in tropical lands were spent in visiting 
the colonies of all the great world powers and that my 
letters had been published. He expressed a desire to read 
the book. I told him I should gladly give him a copy 
but that all were sold. I added, for fear of appearing a 
braggart, that only one thousand copies had been printed. 
I tried to catechize him in return: “Can you tell me 
the motive for that horrible assassination of Count Titza, 
and if his murderers were ever punished?” He then 
went into a long discourse against the Jews, and as it is 
usual in Austria and Hungary to impute all unacknowl¬ 
edged crimes to that unhappy race, he believed the as¬ 
sassination was a plot of the Jews. He made a long 
ingenious plea to that effect, but unconvincing to me. 


io8 


A New World 


Still I believe each nation has Jews of the character it 
deserves to have. I did not want to be pusillanimous and 
desert an unpopular cause, so I began to defend them, but 
was more than willing to talk about something else. The 
Count asked me why I wanted to visit all these cities in 
Central Europe. I replied, “My countrymen do not care 
one farthing for the people over here. They are en¬ 
grossed in their own affairs. I want to use my influence, 
among my friends, at least, to awaken in them an in¬ 
terest in the sorrows and sufferings of this part of 
Europe.” I was interested in his account of Titza’s 
assassination. An enthusiastic girl, a connection of the 
Count, was living in the Titza family. She threw her¬ 
self between the assassin and his victim and a ball grazed 
the side of her forehead. I asked what he thought of 
Count Apponyi. He said he had been opposed to his 
course immediately after the war, but that he now had 
a far better opinion of him, that he was a very strong 
man. I felt the interview had been long enough, and 
rising, was conducted by him to the room I had first 
entered. He then explained that the Hungarians had two 
forms of passports, a high-priced and a very low-priced 
one, that he would allow me the benefit of the latter. I 
was overwhelmed by the generosity of this proposal. A 
messenger was sent to change my marks into Austrian 
money, and when I gave him one hundred kronen I 
thought he would never stop bowing. I was equally 
happy, and on my short walk back to the hotel I sat for 
a while among the flowers and trees, everything so beauti¬ 
ful around me. 


109 


Through Old Eyes 

The food in this hotel is delicious. We had today a 
beautifully cooked dinner with more fine beer than we 
were willing to drink, and it all came to less than twenty- 
five cents. We have fine bread and butter, a tea sub¬ 
stitute which I drink because it is hot and innocuous, but 
very little sugar is given. When I wake in the night I 
think of the plight of this great city, so beautiful and yet 
so full of misery, and I suffer for all its people who toil 
for such wages. Nellie spoke to a gentleman and his 
wife in St. Stephen’s Church about conditions here. The 
husband turned away as if mortified, but the wife said, 
with tears in her eyes; “We with fixed incomes do not 
know what is to become of us.” While Nellie was in 
the church a remarkable wedding took place, in the highest 
princely society of Vienna. The bride was resplendent 
in diamonds and pearls, the most beautiful woman, Nellie 
asserts, she had ever seen. “A real fairy princess,” she 
ways, “marrying a real prince.” 

I had such a scare this afternoon. I thought I had 
lost our passports. Nellie was not in the hotel and I 
waited for her in agony of mind. As she entered I 
called out: “Do you know where the passports are?” 
“Yes, I have them.” But it was some time before I 
could recover my composure. The Bulgarian govern¬ 
ment does not demand excessive rates for visas from 
Americans, but is quite moderate. The employee to 
whom I talked in the office this morning made me very 
sad by his grief over the loss of their port on the Egean 
Sea, Dedeagatch, which Greece refuses to give up. 
Ferdinand led that unfortunate country into this war, 


IIO 


A New World 


and now they are mourning for their losses, and I 
sympathize with them. How strong is love of country! 
It is, I believe the strongest of human attachments, for a 
man will send his sons willingly to die for their country, 
and a mother, who has lost them all in battle, can yet say 
with mournful resignation: “They died that France 
might live.” But really I could never have believed that 
a sob would have choked my voice and a tear would have 
dimmed my eye over a place with such an outlandish 
name as Dedeagatch, but that Bulgarian’s grief touched 
me deeply. I can see no solution for unhappy Austria 
unless in a Customs Union of Central Europe. There 
are indeed few if any economic ills which the sincere 
collaboration of classes and peoples could not remove. 
But Armaments must cease, for they maintain a state of 
mind which makes force alone the arbiter in human 
affairs and contemns as weakness the methods of con¬ 
ciliation and justice. I cannot but feel that France, with 
the first military talents in the world, is lacking in states¬ 
manship. As a whole people cannot be exterminated 
(only the Turks have undertaken it in modern times, not 
to mention that it would be ruinous economically) it is 
manifestly better to make friends of enemies and earn 
their gratitude. Whatever the difficulties may be in 
applying literally the precepts of Christianity in our 
personal contacts with the criminal class, they certainly 
offer the surest basis for a righteous and lasting peace 
between nations. And this is simply because individuals 
only can be guilty, whole nations never. 

Everybody here seems depressed, but the waiters are 


Ill 


Through Old Eyes 

eager to buy and sell kronen. The fluctuations in price 
produce a mania for gambling. We heard today that 
trains no longer go through to Budapest. We shall have 
to take the Danube boat, which is a longer but a pleas¬ 
anter trip. I could get no reduction at the Serbian Con¬ 
sulate though we are to remain in Belgrade only three 
days. Nellie has a theory that any city in the world can 
be thoroughly seen in three, or at most, four days, and 
she puts an almost superhuman energy into realizing this 
theory. Now and then I get her to promise, before 
arriving at some capital, that we shall remain there some¬ 
what longer than her schedule time, but when the three 
days are up, she declares emphatically that the city has 
been properly and thoroughly seen, and off we start, for 
she can pack for both of us while I am looking for my 
spectacles. 


Budapest, 
October 4, 1921. 

During a drive we took the day before we left Vienna 
I was so favorably impressed with the driver that I 
engaged him to come next morning at six o’clock to take 
us to the Danube boat. We were promptly in front of 
the hotel at six, saw others depart, but our man did not 
appear. The hotel employees, to whom I appealed, said 
I should have engaged a carriage through the hotel, 
seemed to think, moreover, that I needed punishment, 
and were by no means anxious to get rid of us either. 
An auto was there waiting for other guests, and I at 
length persuaded the chauffeur to promise me to return 


112 


A New World 


for us. He did so, but after we were well on our way, 
we discovered that two pieces of hand luggage had been 
left behind. So we had to turn back, most reluctantly on 
the part of the chauffeur, who seemed to doubt our ability 
to pay for overtime. When we at last arrived and gave 
him his one thousand kronen with three hundred extra 
for the two bags, his satisfaction was great. As the 
trouble between Austria and Hungary over the Burgen- 
land has completely interrupted railway service, the 
Danube boat was so crowded we couldn’t get a porter, 
and Nellie had to carry our three suitcases on board. I 
was dreadfully uneasy about her and suffered accordingly. 
The day, however, was perfect, the river put on its 
pleasantest aspect for us, and our guide-book made every 
town and castle interesting. 

I tried to recall all that Sedley had told me, during a 
former trip with him on the Danube, of the hard-fought 
battles between French and Austrians on those wooded 
islands and shores we were passing. As I looked on the 
ruined Castle of Pressburg I remembered that still earlier 
in that castle, so near the river bank, Maria Theresa had 
thrown herself on the protection of the Hungarian 
magnates, her baby in her arms, and heard their shouts: 
“Let us die for our King, Maria Theresa!” A chivalrous 
race, these Magyars. They were misled no doubt by the 
evil examples of Russia, Austria and Prussia into the 
harsh treatment of their subject nationalities. 

On the boat Nellie secured for me a bench immediately 
behind the smokestack, shielded almost completely from 
the wind. With my rug and air pillow and a cloak over 


Through Old Eyes 113 

me, I lay most comfortably. It was a glorious trip on a 
wonderful day, but we had one more narrow escape. 
Nellie went quite casually down to the gangplank at one 
of the landings, just in time to rescue our three pieces of 
l u gg a £ e - An officious boy, without the slightest authori¬ 
zation, had already put one suitcase on the wharf and 
was loading off the two others. There appears to be 
such an effervescence of war energy in all classes here, 
that this boy obviously felt impelled to do an extra 
amount of work for his country’s sake. We had our 
luggage brought to the upper deck under our eyes. There 
the customs’ officials examined it. We found that tickets 
had to be secured for the midday meal, so Nellie went 
for them. But not until three o’clock could we get this 
meal. So many passengers were ahead of us. We had 
not been able to get into the breakfast-room that morn¬ 
ing. Luckily I always take food of some kind with me. 
Nellie went to the kitchen herself and secured two cups 
of tea. It was so good she tried to get more but was 
refused. All our tribulations were forgotten, however, 
as the Danube unfolded its many windings, decking itself 
under the shifting clouds with many-tinted hues. We 
found a University professor to talk to and his bitter 
resentment against the dismemberment of Hungary was 
poured out to us. 

I asked that charming gentleman, Mr. Pedlow, of the 
Red Cross, yesterday if he understood Hungarian. He 
said: “No, Hungarian is not a language. It is an afflic¬ 
tion which these people are born with, and which they 
cannot get rid of, like measles and whooping cough, but 


A New World 


”4 

must carry through life with them.” Think then of the 
injustice of forcing such a language on other peoples. 
I believe it is universally true that subject peoples are 
everywhere held in contempt by the conquering race. The 
worst form of this is seen in the Pariahs of India. It 
is the same here with the Hungarians, who have a say¬ 
ing, “A Czech is only half a man.” It was the same with 
the Austrians when they misgoverned the northern part 
of Italy, and further back, the Spaniards had a cruel con¬ 
tempt for those they conquered. The Germans, after 
1871, had a contempt for the French, the English for 
the Irish and East Indians. It is, in fact, this ill-dis¬ 
guised contempt implying always, “Of course we are 
here because you are unable to govern yourselves,” which 
is the hardest of all for subject races to bear, harder than 
taxation, harder even than differences of religion. All 
this is bad for rulers as well as ruled. Should not then 
the Irish be freed from any but a voluntary connection 
with England? I am intensely pro-British, but I want 
her moral prestige to stand high. It is that, in this stage 
of history, which should and must count most. 

Well, we didn’t reach Budapest till eleven o’clock that 
night, and we were the last to leave the ship, because I 
couldn’t stand in the crush of people with suitcases in 
their hands and trunks on their shoulders. When at 
length we presented our passports and tickets at the gang¬ 
plank we were pushed back unceremoniously and had 
to endure a shower of talk in an unknown tongue. Un¬ 
enlightened, we strove to land, to be again thrust back 
with more and more verbal vehemence. Now I should 


Through Old Eyes 115 

have informed myself whether there were any formali¬ 
ties to be gone through with before quitting the ship, for 
I had had an excellent opportunity for doing so, while 
that struggling mass of humanity was working its way 
slowly over the gangplank. Instead of this I was calmly 
talking to a distinguished looking lady and giving her 
advice about her son, an abnormally tall but handsome 
youth. Hoping to do him good, by reason of the vanity 
inherent in men, I said to his mother: “I have noticed 
your son all day. He is so afraid of butting his head 
that he is absolutely ruining his fine figure by stooping.” 
From the corner of my eye I could see the youth 
straighten up and get very red in the face. I knew there¬ 
fore that I was doing him good. As I had sent an 
urgency telegram to the hotel, I felt no uneasiness on that 
score, but Nellie now came to say it would be very im¬ 
prudent to wait any longer, and it was then that our 
troubles began. Rudely thrust back and with no one to 
translate for us, we stood silently till every other pas¬ 
senger, even the dogs, had been disposed of, and then I 
was led like a criminal into an inner office where two 
very weary men were bent over their books. They under¬ 
stood German, but were loath to speak it. It was almost 
twelve o’clock before they designed to notice me. I took 
a seat and waited patiently. Then after paying the price 
demanded, my passports were viseed. But “Where was 
that other person? Why did she not appear?” I ex¬ 
plained that she had to stand guard over our luggage. 
They were too tired for any more delays, so the pass¬ 
ports were at length delivered in proper form. I was at 


Ii6 


A New World 


last free, and it refreshed my soul to see one Cerberus, 
who had thrust me back so ruthlessly, laugh as I took 
the papers, for I can understand laughter in all languages. 
The hotel had two rooms reserved for us, one on a clean, 
quiet courtyard, and one with the marvelous view now 
spread before my eyes. The Danube is under our 
windows. Opposite lies the town of Buda in a narrow 
valley; on either side castle-crowned heights with gardens 
about them. The river is spanned by a noble suspension 
bridge, its waters reflecting the shifting clouds, and fur¬ 
rowed by all kinds of craft. It makes one idle to watch 
this pulsating traffic: the commerce of all middle Europe 
seems to pass by here, so busy is the scene. This is the 
best hotel we have been to, in many respects, fine cuisine, 
music every night, with officers in clanking sabers and 
spurs. We seem to have got into a perfect whirl here, 
Nellie especially, for she sees everything with her 
observant eyes and we laugh over what is not tragic in our 
evening talks. We have already entertained some guests 
in the promenade restaurant of the hotel. We are to 
receive on a larger scale this evening in the same place. 
Mr. Pedlow, President of the Red Cross, is coming for 
us this afternoon in his car. We went to a very pleasant 
tea yesterday in a private family, our hostess charming. 
The lady who introduced us here is Mrs. French of 
California. She and Nellie have many friends in com¬ 
mon and she has done everything possible for us. We 
have a dear little Hungarian friend with an unpronounce¬ 
able name who takes the downfall of her country very 
tragically. She accompanies us sight-seeing. We saw a 


Through Old Eyes 117 

great deal yesterday but I did not always leave the car¬ 
riage. There are many refugees here from Transylvania, 
the care of whom is a great burden to the city. I had 
a visit yesterday from a lady from Transylvania. She 
tells me a Roumanian General has seized her property 
and keeps open house night and day in her home. He 
left for Roumania on business which enabled her to come 
here to appeal to whomsoever will listen to her cries for 
justice. She feels deeply wronged and I pity her 
sincerely. Defeat is very bitter to the Hungarians and 
with that human instinct for laying the blame of their 
sins as well as their misfortunes on others, they have 
found a scapegoat in the Jews. Before the war Jews 
were welcomed in Hungary. The great land-owners 
found them reliable administrators of their huge estates. 
The learned among them were highly esteemed teachers 
in universities and colleges while, owing to their genius 
for trade and commerce, thriving industries sprang up, 
which increased greatly the prosperity of Hungary. But 
evil days came when Bela Kun introduced Bolshevism 
into a country profoundly discouraged and depressed by 
defeat. In addition to the Jews long-settled in the land, 
and identified with its inhabitants, hordes now poured in 
from Russia and Austria, escaping from massacre and 
slavery, fleeing from the enforced ignorance and squalor 
of their past lives, in search of freedom and opportunity 
here. Many of these latter were active in the Bolshevist 
regime as tyranny naturally creates revolutionaries in any 
race. When the red terror had been finally suppressed 
a white terror followed which fell with indiscriminate 


n8 


A New World 


fury upon the Jews whether innocent or guilty. Hungary 
has now deprived herself of industrial and intellectual 
leadership from which the nation is bound to suffer. The 
Hungarians affect now to despise commercial industry 
which is, however, one of the main pathways of modern 
progress. 

We are soon to leave for Belgrade. Our Budapest 
friends exclaim: “Serbia is the last place on earth we 
should wish to go to.” I answer, laughing: “If my 
countrymen had descended on that devoted land, de¬ 
stroyed its capital, ravaged it of all its grain, its livestock, 
its machinery, indeed of everything portable, I, too, 
should avoid going there.” I hear that Serbia has re¬ 
covered marvelously. Its inhabitants are full of energy 
and hope. But it was on the right side during the 
war. 

Belgrade, 

Oct. 7, 1921. 

I could never find time to finish this letter in Budapest. 
Capt. Pedlow, head of the American Red Cross, came 
to take us to the Jewish hospital for blind children. We 
were there informed that it was his birthday. There 
were many speeches made to him, quantities of flowers 
offered, the American National Hymn sung, and a 
deputation came forward, each of whom shook the 
Captain’s hand with his eyes more or less moist, as he 
enumerated the blessings bestowed by Americans through 
Captain Pedlow on the suffering mothers and children of 
Budapest. We were all filled with enthusiasm and deeply 
moved, for before Captain Pedlow arrived, no united 


Through Old Eyes 119 

action had ever been taken by the different groups of 
the population. But on this occasion several Sisters of 
Charity were present besides various dignitaries of dif¬ 
ferent religions. We heard some fine singing and fine 
playing, then the Captain distributed bonbons to the 
children. A blind, deaf and dumb girl was brought for¬ 
ward, who tried to talk to the dear man, repeating, 
“Capitano, Capitano.” He folded the unfortunate one 
in his arms. Then he stooped to kiss the hand of a poor 
crippled hunch-back who does needlework for the hospi¬ 
tal. Nellie exclaimed to me: “Captain Pedlow could 
have kissed the hand of every pretty woman in the hall, 
but he stooped only to the humblest.” I was told that 
all over the town his birthday was observed. He had not 
time to return with us but he sent us back in his machine. 
He joined us later at tea where we had a numerous com¬ 
pany. The drive to and from the hospital was through a 
beautiful part of Pest. Our tea was a great success, 
according to Nellie, but I hardly thought so. In fact, 
as usual, I made mistakes. I had a private conversation 
in the writing-room with a Catholic dignitary whom I 
mistook the whole time for a Jewish rabbi. I was sure 
Captain Pedlow told me so. But it was a mistake and 
the interview unsatisfactory. Nellie has secured a photo¬ 
graph of this dignitary but it does not do him justice. 
He is so homely that he looks distinguished and the 
photograph fails in emphasis on these two qualities. Our 
little Hungarian friend, whom we call Nadge, told me 
that she had spoken of us to the Duke of Hohenlohe who 
said he would be glad to see us. He was leaving town 


120 


A New World 


on Thursday, the day we left, but said he would see us 
on Saturday. I do not know what connection he is of 
the Prince Hohenlohe who published his memoirs a few 
years before the war. 

Our hotel in Budapest was wonderfully comfortable 
and reasonable. Nellie took the sorrows of the Hun¬ 
garians deeply to heart. Indeed one cannot help grieving 
for them. One of the professors at our tea told me the 
reason why there were so many Jews in Hungary. He 
said the Hungarians were born to privilege and conse¬ 
quently idle. By birthright they were officers and func¬ 
tionaries, were therefore not impelled by necessity to 
make strenuous exertions in order to earn an honorable 
living. The Jews were hard-working for success with 
them depended upon knowledge and efficiency. They 
flocked to Hungary where their services were needed. 
The day before we left the murderers of Count Titza 
were sentenced. The accounts of the trial were very 
dramatic. We hated to leave our newly-made friends in 
Budapest, where we were most delightfully situated. 
Mrs. French is greatly beloved there. She has done a 
great deal of philanthropic work both in California and 
in Europe and is loved by all those who work with her. I 
am regretting now that I had so little conversation with 
the one professor whose learning and intelligence were 
equally great. I thought he showed so much common 
sense and fine judgment. But we had so many at our 
reception that I could devote but little time to each. 

We left Budapest at midday and arrived here at twelve 
at night. I had room to lie down on the train. There 


I2X 


Through Old Eyes 

was a German in our compartment who was taking some 
machinery to Bulgaria. He made himself quite useful 
to us so that we were delighted with him. He is from 
Hamburg and is no partisan of the Hohenzollerns, but 
he, too, grieves over the misfortunes of his country. He 
exclaims: “We Germans only ask to work, yet obstacles 
are continually placed in our path.” He continued: 
“Many Germans are buried near Belgrade and I am told 
there is an inscription over them which reads, ‘Wanderer, 
when you return to our native land, tell them there that 
we lie here obedient to the benest of our Fatherland.’ ” 
I said: “That of course recalls the Greeks who fell at 
Thermopylae, but remember the Greeks fell on their own 
soil, repulsing a foreign invader. You Germans fell in¬ 
vading foreign lands.” He was very sad over present 
conditions in Germany. Nellie told him I had published 
a book of letters and mentioned the name. He replied: 
“I read about it in my socialist paper in Hamburg,” and 
then he repeated the rather flattering words in which it 
was recommended to the readers of the paper. Quite an 
odd coincidence. When we reached Belgrade we had to 
go to police headquarters to recover our passports taken 
from us on the train. Those passports keep a host of 
officials, as well as my mind, very much occupied. I 
stayed in the carriage. Nellie said the official in charge 
was so ignorant he could speak no language but his own, 
had never heard of Denmark, about which two young 
Danes were trying to enlighten him. When she said we 
were Americans the light of grateful recognition flashed 
into his eyes. As we had had no answer to our prepaid 


122 


A New World 


reply telegram, we had no idea whether we should find 
rooms, or be forced to spend the night, as we saw others 
doing, under the open porch of the station. We were re¬ 
lieved to be shown our telegram and our names recog¬ 
nized, but we had to take a room two flights up. This 
morning we were moved down to the first floor. Nellie 
caught a very bad cold in Budapest and I felt dreadfully 
uneasy about her this morning. I thought it best to write 
a note to our Minister, Mr. Dodge, asking him to call, 
and I sent it by special messenger. I tried in vain to 
keep Nellie in bed but she would get up and go out. 
After some hours she returned to say she had engaged 
some interesting persons to call on us that afternoon and 
next day. Miss Gardiner came first, a volunteer nurse 
during the war and continuing her activities since then 
among the women and children in and around Nish. 
During the war she nursed at Etaples, on the north 
coast of France. When the air raids were endangering 
them all, wounded and nurses, many of the nurses were 
sent into the forest to sleep. They carried rubber sheets 
and blankets with them, and made their beds under the 
trees, but soon they heard the sound of men working in 
the woods. Some Australians were employing their rest¬ 
ing-time in cutting and binding fagots, with which they 
built a wall around the nurses. Over this they put poles 
and branches, covering all with thick bundles of fagots. 
They told the nurses there was nothing like fagots to keep 
off shrapnel. Miss Gardiner worships these brave young 
Australians who worked for the safety of the nurses in¬ 
stead of sleeping. She says they could turn their hands 


123 


Through Old Eyes 

to any kind of work. She told me a great deal, but this 
and her description of her home interested me most. I 
always love the picture of a modest, happy home where 
work and rest succeed each other in due proportions. 
Her home is in the South of Serbia among those peasants 
to whom she seems a sort of providence. She and an¬ 
other nurse have rented a small house with a large garden 
of fruit trees and vines. They are watching over the chil¬ 
dren of the neighborhood. She tells the boys they can 
always find a bed and something to eat at her house. 
They do not impose on her, and this saves them from 
actual want. Her relatives in England are rich and do 
not need her, and she loves her Serbian home where she 
feels herself useful. A hundred and fifty yards from her 
door, boiling water gushes from the rocks. Here the 
peasants go with potatoes or eggs or anything else to 
be cooked. They put a bag containing the food into the 
boiling water where it is soon prepared and ready to eat. 
All the way along the rivulet, below this hot spring, gyp¬ 
sies do their washing. She and her friend make their 
tea there on evening picnics. She invited us to visit her 
and I wish we had time. She lost her fiance during the 
war, and her useful life must be her happiness now. 

Then Mrs. Campbell came. She is a Californian work¬ 
ing with Dr. Reeder. He provides schools in the devas¬ 
tated regions. She says his child-welfare centers are 
also public health centers, improving the neighborhoods 
where they are situated. Dr. Reeder broke up an orphan¬ 
age which cared for 250 orphans, and with the funds so 
employed, now helps at least one thousand children and 


124 


A New World 


four vocational schools. Could there be a greater proof of 
sound, practical sense ? Also, remark the testimony 
thus furnished against asylums for children. I have 
never approved of them. He is serving with rare intelli¬ 
gence the Serbian Child-Welfare Society of America, 
which places from three to four thousand orphans in 
family homes. The poor little outcasts had previously 
picked out their homes as a stray dog would a shelter. The 
people were so poor they worked the orphans for all they 
could get out of them. Clad in rags, without shoes in 
winter, sleeping on straw, eating what they could find, 
their plight was pitiable. Dr. Reeder has changed all 
that. Money is paid for their keep, clothes furnished, 
and school attendance exacted where schools exist. All 
this and a thousand other things are done by this busy 
and marvelous man. He had no time to call on us, 
worthless tourists, but I heard all about him. He works 
in conjunction with the Serbian government and gets all 
the self-help out of the people that is possible. 

Nellie’s activities relieved my anxiety about her, and 
perhaps did her good. Mr. Dodge wrote he would be out 
of town that day, but would call next afternoon. Of 
course I was sorry I had written to him. At nine o’clock 
Nellie went to bed and I was in the act of following her 
example when the Minister’s card was brought up. I 
found him a most pleasing and elegant gentleman. Next 
day he sent his motor to take us to the station, a very 
kind attention. 

Captain Pedlow is an Ulster man who went to the 
United States when he was twenty. When he told me he 


125 


Through Old Eyes 

was from Lisburn, near Belfast, I remembered that the 
police had arrested me there. He related to me the 
trouble he had during the war with his American girl 
workers, who danced nearly all night and nursed or 
worked all day. Consequently they were constantly ill 
in the Hospitals, 50 at a time, so he limited the dancing 
to twice weekly, which seemed very hardhearted to those 
young creatures. But their health improved marvelously. 

Sophia, Oct. nth, 1921. 

The view from our windows in Belgrade was of ruined 
houses being rebuilt. In the hotel, said to be the best, 
we heard nothing but the ox-wagons carrying their heavy 
loads, the cries of their drivers and the noise of the 
builders. Our Belgrade landlord recommended the 
Palace hotel in Sofia, to which we sent a telegram. We 
arrived very early in the morning and after the usual 
delays imposed on travelers over here began our search 
for that hotel. We drove for hours till at last we would 
have accepted any decent lodging. At one place we both 
left the carriage. When we returned our driver had dis¬ 
appeared with cab and luggage which I never expected 
to see again, but after a long time, and much painful ex¬ 
citement on my part, he reappeared very cheerful and 
talkative in his unknown tongue. I presume he had seized 
the opportunity to eat his midday meal. He then took 
us to more and more dismal haunts until I got a passerby 
to tell him to drive us to the American Consulate. When 
we saw the American eagle great was our relief and joy. 
I went in and met Mr. Graham Kemper, our Consul. 


126 


A New World 


When I told him our plight he looked extremely unhappy, 
for it seems he has to deal with such cases very often. 
He left me to consult his wife over the telephone. On 
his return he said she invited us to lunch, after which 
counsel could be taken. We came therefore to their home 
and no sooner had we entered the parlor than Mrs. Kem¬ 
per asked: “Is this Aunt Mary Ware?” I stood dumb 
with amazement. I had never seen or heard of this 
charming lady before. As I had passed so many years 
in Europe this was only natural, but to find her here, a 
friend in this far off city, under such circumstances, was 
like the happy denouement in a play. She was Aubrey 
Cowan of Vicksburg, cousin of Martha Toulmin. She 
and Nellie have many mutual friends and acquaintances. 
We were made to feel at home at once and have been 
staying here ever since. But for the thought that the 
Kempers have so often to take in travelers like ourselves, 
and that we must not abuse such generous hospitality, 
we should be very happy. Yesterday Mrs. Kemper and 
her husband were engaged to dine out, but they asked 
Mrs. Count, wife of the Methodist Missionary and her 
Mother to dine with us here. Our dinner was exquisitely 
cooked. These servants are most capable, and eight 
o’clock dinner after five o’clock tea seems to be the rule. 
Mrs. Count is an eloquent advocate of the Bulgarians. 
There must be something very attractive about this popu¬ 
lation of small farmers, for every American here has 
borne the same testimony. Nellie says she would love 
to have those dear American and English friends of the 
Serbians, whom we met in Belgrade, meet these defenders 


127 


Through Old Eyes 

of the Bulgarians and overhear their conversation. The 
hatred between these near neighbors is very passionate. 
I feel sure that all these people are simply suffering from 
the sins of their rulers and the politics of the great 
powers. Mr. G. of the Legation called. He has the same 
admiration for the Bulgarians. He came to Sofia from 
Roumania, and like everyone else whom we have met 
here, has the same opinion of the Roumanians, that they 
are the most immoral people in Europe. I hate to accept 
unproven testimony, of such wholesale character against 
any nation, but if Nellie and I were to go to Roumania to 
investigate these charges of immorality, our experience 
would no doubt be similar to that of two of my very dear 
friends who went forth to a foreign city on the same 
quest. As they both go to bed at nine o’clock every night 
their report was entirely optimistic, and doubtless correct. 
People are always so much better than the reputation their 
enemies give them. 


October 13th, 1921. 

I got our Greek passports viseed yesterday, no reduc¬ 
tions. I told the Consul about the Greek peasants who re¬ 
fused to accept pay for their grapes when Sedley and I 
rode through Greece years ago. But Sedley took a dif¬ 
ferent point of view, and put the money in the middle of 
the road, after which we rode on without turning our 
heads. The Consul said the peasants could not have 
acted otherwise. I have retained a very high opinion of 
those peasants ever since. From the Greek Consulate we 
went to Mrs. Count’s to a tea, where we met Mr. and Mrs. 


128 


A New World 


Thompson, he, secretary at the Legation. Mrs. Count is a 
very agreeable woman, with a mind broadened by travel, 
and very kindly in all she says. A trifle less so perhaps 
toward the poor Serbians for she is naturally in sympa¬ 
thy with the Bulgarians among whom she lives. Our 
dear Mrs. Kemper is lovely in every respect. Nellie and 
I are already devoted to her and admire Mr. Kemper, 
who is always so moderate and reasonable in his judg¬ 
ments, and inspired by such a high sense of duty and 
honor. We have been most fortunate in making such 
friends in this far-off Sofia. But as we have the ever 
present fear of being a burden, Nellie has gone each 
morning to try to find rooms in a good hotel, but without 
success. 

The Kempers were in Erfurt during three years of 
the war. They were well treated and lived in comfort. 
One day Mrs. Kemper went to her pastry shop to buy 
cakes. Over the door she saw in big letters “Gott strafe 
England. ,, She looked at it fixedly on entering and on 
leaving. For a week she did not return, but when she 
did so the sign had disappeared. I forgot to tell you an 
incident Captain Pedlow related to me. On one occasion 
he had to receive some prisoners from Germany. He 
gave them some excellent chocolate but it made the Eng¬ 
lishmen violently ill. Their stomachs were so weakened 
they could only digest the most diluted forms of nourish¬ 
ment. The French were in better shape. We had pro¬ 
posed to visit Adrianople, but hear it is an impossible 
place, by reason of dirt and other discomforts. Mr. 
Kemper says we might go to Constantinople by way of 


129 


Through Old Eyes 

the Black Sea. The disadvantages are torpedoes which 
have destroyed ships in the last few months. This kind 
of adventure does not appeal to me particularly. Death 
on land appears far preferable to me to the most heroic 
one at sea. 


Pera Place Hotel, Constantinople, 

Oct. 21, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

The Kempers accompanied us to the station in Sofia 
and gave us an introduction to the consulate here. Nellie 
was filled with enthusiasm as we drove in the late after¬ 
noon through Stamboul, over the new bridge and up the 
steep hill to Galata and Pera. The lights on the water, 
the tall minarets and the street scenes were all perfect. 
The throngs in the streets were greater than I had ever 
seen them. Nellie went early next morning to the consu¬ 
late. The Consul-General was out of town, but our Con¬ 
sul, John Randolph gave her a note to the bank, which 
enabled her to get a check cashed. We invited him to 
tea immediately, and to dinner. He is very entertaining. 
Mrs. Claiborne and Miss Claiborne have been to see us. 
She is a New Orleans lady of Creole family. The daugh¬ 
ter is charming and beautiful. Nellie went to the great 
Bazaar with them. I warned her not to buy anything 
there. I have no confidence in these traders. Sedley and 
I paid that “Faraway Moses” enormous prices for very 
little value received. But Nellie came back with two 
treasures in the shape of two heavy candlesticks. She 
and Mrs. Claiborne met an American naval officer, who 


130 


A New World 


knows perfectly the value of the objects sold in the 
bazaars. He saw an end of one of Nellie’s treasures 
sticking out, and said: “Those candlesticks are worthless. 
They are not brass, and cannot be made to take a polish.” 
That good Mrs. Claiborne had her servant work on them 
for two days, and gave them up as a hopeless job. I 
saved Nellie in Sofia from investing in so-called Oriental 
rugs, which can be bought in London from honorable 
dealers for less than the sum demanded for these spuri¬ 
ous articles here. Any inexperienced buyer who dreams 
of making a bargain with these wily Orientals is deluding 
himself. However, if this delusion makes him happy, I 
have no objection, but as I take the overflow from Nellie’s 
luggage into mine, I prefer not to load it down with 
heavy imitation brass candle-sticks, entirely adapted to 
devastate in transit my simple wardrobe. As soon as 
the Consul-General, Mr. Ravndal, returned, he called to see 
us; the Kempers are his friends. Mrs. Ravndal came 
also to invite us to Sunday dinner. The Ravndals are 
very attractive people, he very tall and handsome, and 
she pretty, with charming manners. Miss Woodsmall 
came in her car yesterday afternoon and invited Mrs. 
Ravndal, Nellie and me to visit with her the two houses 
over which she presides in Pera and Stamboul. As I 
was not feeling quite equal to climbing steps, I sat in the 
office of the Stamboul house where the secretary was very 
busy with her accounts. Presently I said: “I wish you 
would come over here and talk to me a little.” She came, 
and I asked: “Are you a Turkish lady?” “Yes.” “Do 
you read the papers every day?” “Certainly, every day.” 


Through Old Eyes 131 

“Are you really interested in political questions?” “Most 
certainly, very deeply interested.” “Are you a Mussul¬ 
man in religion?” “Of course, we Turks are never con¬ 
verted. We never give up our religion.” “Is no pressure 
put on you in this Y. W. C. A. center, to make you change 
your faith?” “None whatever. The Turkish women 
thought at first that this organization would try to con¬ 
vert us, but now I go among our people and persuade 
them to send their girls here, where they have a social 
center and can learn English, French, typewriting, athle¬ 
tics, etc.” “What do you think of the war now being 
waged against the Greeks?” “Why even the women are 
fighting the Greeks. We shall never cease to fight them 
till they are all driven from our country.” I just man¬ 
aged to reach this point in our conversation when that 
good Miss Woodsmall and our party came down the 
steps and I was obliged to return to the hotel. 

The first acquaintance we made in this hotel was a 
Greek lady whose father and brother were murdered a 
few weeks ago in Samsoun. I was in Samsoun in the 
Autumn of 1895 when Sedley and I returned from a trip 
through the Caucasus as far as Tiflis. We took an 
Italian trading ship at Batum which stopped at every port 
on the south coast of the Black Sea. At Trebezond a 
guide conducted us over the city which appeared per¬ 
fectly peaceful, but next morning early when I went on 
deck I found it crowded with miserable refugees. The 
Turks had risen in the night and plundered the houses of 
the Armenians. The little Greek lady is dressed in deep¬ 
est mourning. She and her husband invited us to their 


132 


A New World 


room as they say the hotel is a meeting-place for spies. I 
have never seen a man so intimidated as the husband. 
He thinks he has been put on the list of proscribed 
Greeks and that he may be killed at any moment. This 
may be true. He has valuable property at Samsoun but 
dares not go there. He asked if it would be possible for 
us to speak to the Consul about protection for him. But 
this is not possible, because these Asiatic Greeks are 
Ottoman subjects and there is war between Greece and 
Turkey. When Greece, which has been misled into this 
war of aggression, shall have made peace with the Turks, 
there may be arranged some sort of protection for them. 

I got into conversation with a Greek diplomat who 
defended the Greek atrocities in this war. But do they 
not thereby place themselves on the low level of Turkish 
civilization, or rather barbarism? I know the fearful 
wrongs they endured in the Great War, the calculated, 
wholesale extermination of their people. But reprisals, 
besides falling on the innocent, are also unwise. The 
world exclaims: “We see no difference between Greeks 
and Turks,” and leaves them to their fate. The Moslem 
religion is one of ferocious warfare. All its conquests 
were made by the sword. It is a religion of Militarism. 
Ours is one of mercy and peace. I mentioned to the 
Diplomat the proposal to give Cyprus to Greece in lieu 
of Smyrna. He bitterly opposed this compromise say¬ 
ing: “The Greeks of Cyprus are only a few thousand 
while those of Asia Minor are still numerous. They 
peopled the Mediterranean coasts long before the birth 
of Christ and have occupied them ever since. Turkish 


133 


Through Old Eyes 

conquests came centuries later, and the Greeks during 
all this time have been forced to live under a race greatly 
inferior to their own. The Greeks of Cyprus are happy 
under the mild rule of England. They are prosperous 
and free, nor do they wish to change their status, but it 
is different with the Greeks of Asia Minor. After their 
age-long servitude and after all the promises made them 
during and subsequent to the great war, is it just to aban¬ 
don them now to the tyranny of the Turks? Can they 
hope for more security than in the past?” I felt that 
his argument was historically correct. The Christian 
races and the Jews, so superior in intelligence, have 
been in bondage to the ignorant and barbarous Turks 
for many centuries, during which the only qualities 
of mind by which they could preserve their lives and 
property were cunning, and all the arts of dissimu¬ 
lation and corruption. Bondage is certainly not a school 
for the manly virtues, but it is the misfortune of these 
peoples and not their crime. The crime is that of the 
Christian powers which sustained the rule of the Turk 
through all those centuries. 

Admiral Mark Bristol, American High Commis¬ 
sioner, called for a few minutes this morning. He is a 
man of distinguished appearance and young-looking 
despite all the responsibility resting on his shoulders. He 
says when he has time, he can convert me to his views 
about the Turks. But as long as I know that if fanat¬ 
icism commands, they would cut my throat without the 
slightest hesitation, I cannot become their admirer, 
though the Koran does inculcate truth and keeping faith. 


134 


A New World 


Nellie and I went this afternoon to see the Whirling 
Dervishes, but they did not whirl with the same ardor as 
when Sedley and I saw them in 1895, a few days after the 
massacres of many Armenians. An old man, too old to 
whirl, walked with slow and measured steps among them, 
performing many genuflections when he passed the Mul¬ 
lah, who stood at the head of the hall on a bit of carpet. 
The old man seemed to imbibe holy influences, wandering 
slowly among those young and vigorous whirlers. I 
soon got tired, not being sustained by holy emanations. 
Nellie went from there to the Howling Dervishes, whom 
Sedley and I saw in Scutari when they were under the 
influence of great religious exaltation after that horrible 
massacre of a few days before. They trampled on babies 
or men indiscriminately. Fanatical fathers placed the 
poor babies on the ground at the feet of the holy men. 
Nellie saw all this somewhat modified by charlatanism. 

October 22, 1921. 

Nellie went off this morning with Mrs. Ravndal to take 
lunch at the girl’s American College, now called the Con¬ 
stantinople College. Then she was to go to Robert Col¬ 
lege for the afternoon. She would not modify this pro¬ 
gram, though I received a telephone message this morn¬ 
ing that Dr. Gates, President of Robert College, would 
send an automobile for us Tuesday afternoon. It will 
give me much pleasure to revisit that noble American 
Institution which has spread culture and kindly feeling 
among all these different and warring races. 

A few days ago, two ladies arrived in this hotel, who 


135 


Through Old Eyes 

made the trip in the same train with me in 1912, from 
Peking to Hankow. It was on that occasion that I re¬ 
marked casually to a young American, Mr. Warfield of 
Baltimore who was sitting near me in the car, that a 
missionary acquaintance of mine was in much trouble, 
having lost her ticket, and that the conductor insisted on 
her paying full fare a second time. Mr. Warfield put his 
hand in his pocket and pulled out a first-class ticket, and 
asked me to give it to her. It was an odd coincidence 
that his sister, at the last moment, had renounced the 
trip. He was traveling at that time with these two ladies, 
Miss Herron and Miss Ruth Harrison. They are quite 
agreeable and play bridge wonderfully well. Herbert 
Spencer would say they play it too well, as indicating 
wasted time, but the evenings are intended for recreation 
and whosoever infringes this salutary rule too persist¬ 
ently loses his eyesight for his pains. We play a game 
in the evening when there is nothing better to do. Nellie, 
who shines so in conversation, and fascinates everyone 
socially, presents rather a sorry figure at bridge. She 
deliberates long over each move, and her worst plays are 
made after profoundest thought. 

We had the most heavenly day to make the Bosphorus 
trip. Many of the passengers wanted to talk to us but 
could speak only these Eastern languages. The men all 
make use of conversation-beads, like rosaries. I was not 
sure they were not for prayer as I saw the Buddhists use 
them up in Darjeling. I made the motions indicating 
prayer, and one well-dressed man shook his head. For 
a joke I asked in English “You use those beads then on 


A New World 


136 

account of the vacuity of your minds?” He smilingly 
nodded assent. It was a mean trick to play on that inno¬ 
cent, empty-headed man. 

Admiral Bristol told me he went through Bulgaria in 
an automobile, and everywhere he had seen peaceful work, 
the peasants raising everything necessary on their farms, 
cattle, pigs, sheep, poultry, vegetables and fruits. They 
seemed prosperous and happy in these labors. I thought 
it was because the Allies had lifted the burden of con¬ 
scription from them. The Serbians had soldiers and 
armies marching everywhere we went. We saw long 
trains full of soldiers and the peasant's clothes were 
covered with patches. I never saw so many patches put 
on garments, and where they failed I could see the human 
skin. They had an awful time during the war when 
enemies were terrible. It is a pity they have not some 
good enemy now to impose disarmament on them. We 
were invited a few days ago to join a party going through 
the Seraglio. We were delighted to accept, and Miss 
Ruth Harrison went with us. At the Seraglio we were 
shown through all the buildings in the compound, except 
the Treasury. There is much doubt among those to 
whom we have spoken as to what has been done with that 
remarkable treasure. The views from the Seraglio 
Point, overlooking the meeting of the waters of the Sea 
of Marmora, the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn, with 
Scutari on the Asiatic Coast and Pera and Galata on the 
European side, are absolutely unrivalled in the world. It 
is a vision of such ethereal beauty that it looks as unreal 
as the “baseless fabric of a dream.” Of course I recalled 


137 


Through Old Eyes 

how Sedley and I had been met at the gate by the Aide 
de Camp of Abdul Hamid, of his unconcealed contempt 
for us when he found he was to escort two untitled 
Americans, of his stalking sulkily ahead to the open doors 
of the Treasury, and of the tall, strong Turk who at that 
moment opened his mouth and uttered a yell so piercing 
that when it ceased and I asked “Is this man compelled 
to make that fearful noise?” the angry answer came back, 
“He* is the muezzin calling to prayer.” I went into that 
Treasury so entirely a prey to indignation and humilia¬ 
tion that I saw absolutely nothing of the treasures there, 
though I admired Sedley for calmly observing every ob¬ 
ject of interest marked by a star or two in our guide book. 
And then of our being taken into a salon where coffee 
and rose leaf preserves were offered to us, and of my 
continued indignation at the neglect and contempt of that 
Turkish officer. I remember that to make conversation 
in the dead and oppressive silence, I said, “Last Friday, 
we were at the Selamlik and my son, who has made a 
study of the armies of all the countries he has visited, 
says the Sultan’s body-guard, which we saw Friday, is 
the finest-looking corps he has ever seen.” I have not 
forgotten yet the eager questioning of that young officer, 
and as Sedley could answer satisfactorily every question, 
he became full of zeal to show us attention. But I said 
coldly, “We are just from Russia and of course biases 
for we have seen such treasures there as are not to be 
found elsewhere on earth.” “Oh, I can show you at the 
Dolmabaghcheh Palace, a treasure unequalled even in 
Russia.” And he hurried us to the landing where the 


I3» 


A New World 


Sultan’s caique, with a number of uniformed rowers, was 
waiting for us, neglecting the glory of the Seraglio Point, 
its unrivalled views over the waters and towers of Asia 
and Europe, unique in the world. But I enjoyed that 
rare treat when we visited the Seraglio a few days ago. 

Nellie went on Friday morning to the Selamlik with 
Miss Herron, Miss Harrison, and a dear girl, Miss Shaw, 
of the Y. W. C. A. center, who was conducting a party 
of American sailors. When an American ship arrives, 
Miss Shaw takes charge of our sailors and guides them 
through all the interesting sights of the city. How much 
better this instructive sight-seeing of the marvels of 
Constantinople than to leave these young men, unguided, 
to fall victims to every kind of designing impostor who 
represents himself to be a friend of the American sailor. 
I consider those centers established by the Y. W. and 
Y. M. C. A. of a high moral and educational value. 


Smyrna, 
Nov. i, 1921. 


Dearest Family: 

I should have written a second letter from Constanti¬ 
nople as we were there fifteen days, but w T e were so ab¬ 
sorbed in the peoples and problems of that city, the morn¬ 
ing and evening newspapers so tempting, that no time 
was left for writing. The Sunday after I wrote we dined 
at the Consul-General’s where we met the head of our 
Near East Relief who is much praised as a fine business 
man. We met also Colonel Castle, an extremely attractive 
man who knows the Bagbys of Coblenz. 


139 


Through Old Eyes 

Dr. Gates, President of Robert College, came in his 
car and took me to his home at the college. There I met 
Mrs. Gates. Her health was shattered some years ago 
by the horrors she saw perpetrated on the Armenians. I 
think it was in 1895, when Sedley and I reached Con¬ 
stantinople a few days after the fearful slaughter of 
Armenians near the Ottoman bank. At the time the same 
atrocities took place in many parts of Asia Minor. The 
Gates’ home is beautiful with its wonderful flowers and 
marvellous views, for this point on the Bosphorus is the 
most picturesque of all. I asked Dr. Gates about the re¬ 
cent judicial murders of the leading Greeks of Pontus 
(that part of Anatolia which lies along the south coast of 
the Black Sea). He said seventy of the most prominent 
Greeks had been arrested there, given a summary trial 
and executed. He had sent a dispatch to Angora begging 
for clemency, to which no reply was given. I said, “Dr. 
Gates, if every officer and soldier in the Greek Army, 
which made that fatal aggressive movement against the 
Turks, had been warned that upon their conduct depended 
the honor of their country and their cause in the eyes of 
the Western World, do you think they would have been 
guilty of those massacres at Smyrna and during their 
campaign in Asia Minor?” The Doctor of course agreed 
with me that they should have been so warned. Kitchener 
furnished each English soldier with rules of good con¬ 
duct when he disembarked in France during the War. 
That was worthy of the high name of England. What 
excites my indignation is to hear Greeks defend these 
atrocities. I consider such Greeks as enemies to their 


140 


A New World 


country. To be a true lover of one’s country is to deplore 
every wrong done by its citizens, so that redress may be 
found. We had another invitation to Robert College. 
Dr. Huntington and Dr. Damon are professors there. 
They are also brothers-in-law, for Mrs. Damon, whom 
I learned to know in Windsor, Connecticut, was a Miss 
Huntington. Mrs. Huntington was Miss Dodge, daugh¬ 
ter of Cleveland Dodge of New York. We had a wonder- 
fud day with those lovely people. Such views over the 
Bosphorus! Such profusion of gorgeous flowers! If 
only I had time I should love to tell you more of this 
charming household. In the afternoon they sent us to 
the Girls’ College, whose president is Miss Mary Mills 
Patrick. The trustees have named it Constantinople 
College. It is a wonderful institution and it seems to be 
highly appreciated by Turks, Greeks, Armenians, Bul¬ 
garians, Serbians and all the rest of the peoples of the 
Near East. I had not been told there was to be a lecture 
at the college, so not being eager to leave the delightful 
society of the Huntington home, we were very late in 
arriving. We were ushered into the big assembly-hall 
where we took front-row seats, for I could hear nothing 
otherwise. The speaker was an officer of our Navy, and 
the conclusion of his speech made me appreciate all that 
I had missed. I must tell you this one anecdote: On an 
American warship a young sailor was brought before 
the captain who said to him, “I hear you refuse to work 
on Sunday.” “Yes, Sir, it is against my religious prin¬ 
ciples.” “Well, let me tell you, I am not only Captain 
of this ship, but I am bishop of this diocese. Get out of 


Through Old Eyes 141 

here and go to work as fast as you can.” The Huntington 
car took us home late that afternoon, in time however 
for rest and then to a big dinner at the Near East 
Relief Center. We met there many interesting young 
girls who are enthusiastic workers for the refugees. Miss 
Anthony of Berkeley, California, came next morning in 
her car and took us to the Hospital and to one of the 
many Armenian refugee buildings where they are 
crowded together, poor fugitives. The Near East Relief 
has bought extensive deserted lands in Thrace, not far 
from the Sea of Marmora, where they are settling the 
able-bodied Armenians as fast as possible. The first 
party of settlers was carried to the land where the ruins 
of former habitations stood. They were left with bread, 
cheese and canned milk. When the relief workers re¬ 
turned they found that these people had worked night and 
day, had used all the materials available and had begun 
on the land. To get away from the refugee camps with 
their stagnation of mind and body was such a joy to 
these homeless creatures that they had achieved the ap¬ 
parently impossible in their eagerness to provide them¬ 
selves with homes. The Near East Relief is determined, 
as far as its means permit, to settle on this land all those 
able to work. It is a noble enterprise, that of providing 
homes and work for these outcasts. All that is best in 
our religion finds free expression here. A day or two 
afterwards that dear Mrs. Emerick came in her little 
Ford and took us to see her work. She too is in the 
Near East Relief and has five thousand women and or¬ 
phans under her charge. They are in a state of semi- 


142 


A New World 


starvation. Mrs. Emerick had been to see me at the 
hotel, and when she told me that she had missed only 
one day from her work when her dear boy died, we wept 
together, nor can I speak of it here without tears. She 
took us among her charges and had her hands kissed by 
that adoring, but filthy humanity. I try not to feel re¬ 
pulsion for these creatures, remembering the words of a 
great, good man, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.” 
Were my work to lie among them I should no doubt be¬ 
come accustomed to it as others do. Those poor women 
beg her to put their children in schools. They say, “Take 
away some of our bread, but let our children learn.” All 
these refugees have been made homeless by the Greek 
War, that fatal war, fatal alike to the Greeks and to Asia 
Minor in general. To this war, and the way in which 
it has been conducted, can be ascribed the widespread 
misery of the inhabitants of the Near East. 

I must not forget to tell you what John Randolph re¬ 
lated to us of a Russian princess whom he saw often, 
before the great revolution, in Moscow. She was so 
admired at that time that it was hard to approach her. 
When Mr. Randolph came to Constantinople he found this 
princess one day in a Russian restaurant as a waitress. 
Hoping to earn more she asked Mr. Randolph to get her 
a place in a restaurant on the Bosphorus. He did so, but 
a few days later he found the poor princess back in Con¬ 
stantinople. The proprietor of the Bosphorus establish¬ 
ment is a negro from Mississippi who many years ago 
wandered out to Moscow where he made a fortune with 
his restaurant. The Bolsheviki destroyed his business 


143 


Through Old Eyes 

and seized his property. He then appeared here and 
seems to be doing well. He required his fascinating 
waitress to sit at table with his customers and entertain 
them by her conversation. This was so repugnant that 
she gave up the place. She is now, I hear, a pale reflec¬ 
tion of her former self. We determined to go to this 
restaurant to see her. Mr. Randolph invited us, but as 
we had a prior engagement the opportunity was lost and 
we never got there. Nellie found a Russian girl she was 
very enthusiastic about, whom she took to dine at a Rus¬ 
sian restaurant hoping to see the princess, but it was not 
the right one. As I had made an excursion that morn¬ 
ing with Nellie to Eyoub on the Golden Horn, returning 
in a caique, I was too tired to accompany them. 

We were invited to tea at the Embassy. Mrs. Bristol 
offered to invite other guests to meet us, but I preferred 
to see her and the Admiral alone. Unfortunately I got 
it into my head that we were invited for half-past five 
instead of five. Punctually at half-past five we entered 
the Embassy to find that Mrs. Bristol had been waiting 
for us for half an hour. I was really mortified, because 
the Bristols are run to death, as it were. They are called 
upon on all occasions and have to preside at many meet¬ 
ings so I felt keenly having kept them waiting. I am told 
that each employee at the Embassy supports one or more 
of the Russian refugees. The Admiral is a fine-looking 
man with determination written in every line of his face. 
He said I was mistaken in supposing he was pro-Turk, 
that he was pro-nothing but pro-American; that he could 
say truly that he stood neutral between the contending 


144 


A New World 


races and religions, that any one coming to Constanti¬ 
nople with a bias for any side was incapable thereby of 
doing any good, or of serving any useful purpose, that 
the question at issue was not a religious question, but a 
political one, that the Armenians and the Greeks respec¬ 
tively wish only to supplant the Turks in their dominant 
position, and that either one of them would be a more 
cruel taskmaster to the Turks than the latter is now to 
them. When I made the remark that the Koran decreed 
death to those unbelievers who refused to be converted 
or to pay tribute, he said the mass of the people could not 
read the Koran and were therefore not aware of its severe 
injunctions. Besides he doubted if I had read the best 
version of the Koran, “In point of atrocities, there was 
little difference/’ he said, “between Greeks, Armenians 
and Turks.” He asked if I would put the Turks at the 
mercy of the Greeks or of the Armenians? Naturally 
I said, “By no means.” I suggested a possible solution, 
the use of foreign Residents like those in the native prin¬ 
cipalities of India, where British Residents keep the peace 
between the different races and religions. Now the vari¬ 
ous populations over here all profess confidence in the 
non-partisanship of Americans. There could therefore 
be no reason why the League of Nations should not ap¬ 
point American Residents for Turkey with the advice of 
our Presidents, as in the noted case of Mr. Shuster, who 
gave satisfaction to the Persians. Since our arrival in 
Smyrna I have heard the testimony of unimpeachable 
eye-witnesses of the fearful disorders that occurred when 
the Greeks took possession of this city in May, 1919. 


145 


Through Old Eyes 

Their long-repressed desire for revenge burst forth irre¬ 
sistibly and their officers did nothing to restrain them. 
How quickly do men, with arms in their hands, revert to 
the savagery of their ancestors, more especially in these 
countries where religion has been the standard of party 
and of race. As I do not speak these languages, or live 
among these people, I must simply take the historical at¬ 
titude toward them, namely that the Turk has been a 
blight to every land he has ruled. When Greece took over 
her devastated territories and ruined towns she was fear¬ 
fully impoverished, but within a few years brigandage 
had ceased and peace and plenty reigned. Athens, from 
being a village of ruins, became a beautiful capital. 
When Sedley and I rode over that country in 1895 we 
carried all our money for the trip in our pockets and we 
went north, south, east and west in security, finding flour¬ 
ishing towns and well-cultivated fields everywhere. As 
each of the Balkan States threw off Turkish rule progress 
began for its people, because at last they enjoyed the 
fruits of their toil. In our tour through Palestine and 
Syria in 1896, we found all travelers armed, and the 
country presented the aspect of universal stagnation and 
decay, save for the few Zionist settlements and one by the 
Germans at Haifa. Unfortunately over here everybody 
is afraid to speak openly even when they quit the country, 
for it would endanger friends they leave behind. We 
have been obliged to promise solemnly never to betray 
those who have given us inside information. They are 
persons who have been eye-witnesses of the excesses of 
the Greeks in their hour of triumph, persons who, behold- 


146 


A New World 


ing the innocent victims of carnage, have become strongly 
pro-Turk. A reporter of a great newspaper, who came 
with all the authority of Greek protection and Greek sym¬ 
pathies and was allowed to follow the Greek Army, saw 
the bodies of Turkish families butchered near their 
burned homes with small Greek and British flags fastened 
near them. He left the war zone a “converted man,” to 
use his own expression. Another eye-witness, who fol¬ 
lowed the Armenian army in its retreat, after the break¬ 
ing up of the Russian army, says that not a Turkish man, 
woman or child survived along the pathway of those 
men, frenzied by the memory of their dead lying on the 
desert sands of Mesopotamia. I listen with horror to all 
this, yet when the words no longer ring in my ears, I 
return to my original point of view. The Turkish leaders 
during the great war adopted and carried out a 
policy of extermination, first against the Armenians 
whose territory lay contiguous to Russia in the Caucasus. 
Somewhat later the Greeks of the Coast towns fell like¬ 
wise under suspicion and it was determined to get rid 
of them also. Great numbers were deported to the 
Islands, the remainder were driven into the interior, an 
acknowledged Turkish means of extermination. These 
Greeks were the most refined, cultivated and economi¬ 
cally successful class in Asia Minor. With regard to 
the Armenians Talaat and Enver boasted that they had 
accomplished more in a few months in the arid sands of 
Mesopotamia than Abdul Hamid in all his reign, though 
he too was undoubtedly animated by the same purpose. 
More than a thousand years before Christ the sea-faring 


147 


Through Old Eyes 

Greeks peopled these coasts, introduced here their civiliza¬ 
tion, the best then known in the world. Homer, it is be¬ 
lieved, was born a few miles from Smyrna. Here, at any 
rate, in a remote antiquity his poetry was recited and his 
memory revered. The Turks came, a horde of barbarian 
conquerors, under whose misrule the superior races have 
suffered during all these centuries. What people would 
not to be debased by centuries of thraldom to stupid and 
ignorant conquerors. The apparent anomaly that a Turk 
in his private life is honorable, but dishonorable as a func¬ 
tionary, is simply because the autocrat, the Sultan, took 
for his own use all the income of the state. It was 
brought to him and put into his private treasury. Offi¬ 
cials and functionaries were turned loose on the public 
for a living. I am told and am willing to believe, that 
the Turkish farmers, the mass of the people, possess the 
simple basic virtues of primitive peoples. They are hos¬ 
pitable and frugal, but densely ignorant. It would be 
unjust to deliver them, without guarantees into the hands 
of those who regard the soil as their heritage. Six cen¬ 
turies of bondage have not effaced the memory of the 
ancestors who owned these lands and who had attained 
so high a degree of civilization. Were the League of 
Nations supported by America there could be little doubt 
that it would solve these problems. No race in the Near 
East wants to be under any other, for race in these lands 
means religion and the hatreds of centuries. We should 
never forget that had the Armenians and Greeks aban¬ 
doned Christianity and adopted Mohammedanism they 
would have had nothing more to fear. I do not think 


A New World 


148 

the Western world is sufficiently awake to the fact that 
the Mohammedan religion is the most dangerous of all 
others. A religion which can inspire its followers to 
die as willingly in defeat as in victory, sure that Houris 
await them with outstretched arms in Paradise. What 
other people would obey a command to massacre an un¬ 
armed population, or drive the poor victims over moun¬ 
tain and plain, a helpless multitude to end their agony 
on the burning sands of a desert? The sublimest genius 
the Earth could produce, the finest flower of its most 
enlightened culture would count for nothing in the eyes 
of a true believer in the Koran, strong only in his ig¬ 
norance and fanaticism, a docile instrument in the hands 
of ambitious leaders. 

Nellie got her candlesticks changed, but the quality is 
no better. I have put them in one of my suit-cases and 
feel strongly tempted to pitch them into the Higean as a 
propitiatory offering to Neptune. At any rate I have 
told Nellie if she buys any more candlesticks save only 
the seven-branched golden candlestick which Titus took 
from Solomon’s Temple at Jerusalem, that, to quote Leti- 
tia Miller, I should find out what the worm did when it 
turned, and do it. Solomon’s Temple reminds me that 
Nellie and I had almost resolved to run down to Jerusa¬ 
lem while here in Smyrna. She has never been to the 
Holy Land. I went there with Sedley, all through it in 
fact, and found it the most interesting tour I had ever 
taken in my life, nor has my opinion changed since then, 
much as I have traveled. I should love to go again, at 
least to Jerusalem, because I am an enthusiastic Zionist. 


149 


Through Old Eyes 

I am always surprised when I am asked “Why are you 
a Zionist?” Was I not brought up on the Bible? Was 
not Christ a Jew? I cannot after such teaching associate 
Palestine with any other race than the Jews. Zionism 
does not force Jews to go to Palestine; it simply gives 
them a glorious opportunity to show of what they are 
capable. Let them make of that little land, which so 
many millions of men call “Holy,” a land really Holy 
for humanity. Let them create there a model govern¬ 
ment where tolerance shall replace fanaticism, and where 
all the attractions of beauty, fruitfulness of soil and con¬ 
veniences of life may abound. Let the creation of this 
beautified and purified Palestine be the answer of the 
Jews to their age-long persecutors, and then for the first 
time men shall see in the East all races and all religions 
dwelling together in peace and harmony. Should I be 
spared to see such a day I should go as a pilgrim to 
Jerusalem and feel that my most cherished dreams of 
human brotherhood and progress had been realized. 
Jerusalem would then be, for the prosperous and culti¬ 
vated Jews of other lands, the goal of a pilgrimage and 
the object of their pride. 

Hotel “Splendide Palace,” Smyrna, 

Nov. 5, 1921. 

Our boat trip here from Constantinople was most 
pleasant. We passed Gallipoli before day and did not 
stop there. That was of course a disappointment, but we 
saw the beautiful Dardanelles and the islands just outside. 
We were two nights on the way arriving very early in 


150 


A New World 


the morning. Nellie went immediately to the Consulate, 
and Mr. Treat offered to send us in his car that afternoon 
to Paradise, the fine American college for boys a few 
miles from Smyrna. We did not, however, see the Presi¬ 
dent as he was deeply engrossed in a very important mat¬ 
ter. We passed two Roman aqueducts, one almost in the 
college grounds. Next day the President and his wife 
took luncheon with us and he made himself thrillingly 
interesting. He told us also of the important business 
of the day before. One of his students is a Turkish boy 
who has had little help from any source, as his family 
is very poor, yet he gained the big silver cup for scholar¬ 
ship as well as the prize for field sports. This was a sub¬ 
ject of discontent to the Greek and Armenian students, 
who by their conduct, took all the joy of his achievement 
from the young Turk. This preyed on his mind to such 
an extent that one day in chapel he sprang up and seized 
a Greek student, pushing and shoving him about, calling 
out incoherent words from the scriptures after which he 
ran away. In a few days he returned half-starved and 
begged humbly to be readmitted. Then he went to the 
dining-room and begged pardon of the boys assembled 
there. These, however, could not reconcile themselves to 
his presence, so he told the President, Dr. McLachlan, 
that he would work as a servant over at the agricultural 
department. It was the momentous question that had 
assembled all the faculty the afternoon we arrived. The 
Doctor told us it had been decided to accept the boy’s 
offer, and he had been sent to work in the fields. I 
thought this very wise as it was evident the boy’s mind 


Through Old Eyes 151 

had been overstrained. The other students, however, 
showed little generosity, no more, perhaps, than our 
own boys would have shown to a German during the war. 

We took a carriage to go up Mount Pagus, on whose 
side ancient Smyrna was built. The ruins crowning the 
hill are very picturesque from the city, but after a short 
ascent the carriage stopped and we were turned out to 
make our way on foot. I soon lay down on a grassy 
spot, and refused to get up. Nellie would not leave me 
so after seeing nothing we returned. The carriage then 
took us through the narrow, tortuous streets of the 
Bazaar where everything is sold and which took away our 
appetite for the wonderfully fine grapes of this region, 
because of the flies which swarmed unmolested over them. 
The grapes of Constantinople were also most delicious 
and we consumed quantities of them during our stay 
there. 

Miss Christie came to see us late one evening. She is 
head of the Y. W. C. A. here. These organizations are 
doing a superb work in Smyrna. Under their roof young 
women of all races learn the spirit of tolerance and of 
mutual service. The organization was able to purchase 
an old stable without windows in the poorest quarter of 
the city. There they made a social center for the fac¬ 
tory girls. When they spoke of their desire to help the 
factory girls they were warned not to approach such 
utterly depraved creatures. In the stable, cleaned and 
renovated, they have brought some brightness into the 
lives of these girls, and of all the poor mothers and chil¬ 
dren of the neighborhood. They give them innocent 


152 


A New World 


amusements, teach them what may be useful, and incul¬ 
cate by example and precept that tolerance of other creeds 
and races of which they have such great need. Miss 
Christie is a great admirer of the Greek high commis¬ 
sioner, Mr. Sterghiades. He has helped them with 
money and in other ways ever since they came here a 
few months after Greek occupation in 1919. In 1920 
when they had a formal official opening, to which they 
invited representative men of Greek, Armenian, Turkish, 
French and Italian nationalities, including besides some 
of the rich and poor among the ordinary citizens, it was 
with intense satisfaction that they saw Greeks and Turks 
fraternizing over their tea and cake. The High Commis¬ 
sioner permits all their supplies to come in without going 
through the customs, and watches over their work in the 
most helpful manner, conscious that it makes for peace 
and friendly understanding. 

It was dark the evening we returned from Paradise 
when we reached the outskirts of the city. We found 
ourselves entangled in the march of hundreds of Greek 
soldiers just landed and going out to a camp an hour’s 
walk from the town. When we reached the hotel we 
watched them marching by from our windows, and I 
felt my heart burn within me with fierce indignation 
against war and all its train of misery. The sky was 
heavy with black clouds. We had seen a Greek encamp¬ 
ment almost surrounded by water from the recent rains 
on our way out. These men have been taken from field 
and factory alike, from useful work to be thrust on those 
fanatical armies of Kemal Pasha which, excited by sue- 


153 


Through Old Eyes 

cess and eager for battle against the unbelievers, are 
awaiting these poor victims of race and military ambition. 

Day before yesterday we went out to Ephesus. It was 
a trip we dreaded, but were determined to take. Nobody 
seemed to know anything about the trains, except that 
some said they left at seven, some at seven-thirty. Nellie 
went to the station for information, and finding that 
there was a train every other day only we decided to 
make the trip next morning. We were up soon after five 
and a French lad here, who alone can talk freely to us 
in a language we understand, undertook to bring us hot 
tea at six, which he did. It was a blessing we arrived 
at the station with time to commit mistakes, for we com¬ 
mitted a good many. While Nellie was busied elsewhere 
I spoke to a man who looked very intelligent. Nellie 
insists that I should not address strangers so uncere¬ 
moniously as I do, and when she is near she tugs un¬ 
mercifully at my arm and whispers “Now, don’t speak 
to that strange man.” But I feel responsible for pro¬ 
viding her with good, intelligent society, for naturally 
she gets tired of me. When I find the right kind of man, 
always against violent opposition, I then introduce my 
niece, and she is soon absorbed in his interesting conver¬ 
sation. When the find is a particularly fortunate one she 
declares “He certainly is the most interesting man we 
have met so far.” Such a find I made in front of the 
railway station. He was an Italian born in Smyrna, but 
brought up in French schools, so that he prefers to speak 
that language. He entertained us most delightfully all 
the way to Ephesus. He said that before the Greek occu- 


154 


A New World 


pation when he went out on his shooting excursions he 
often visited the small Turkish farmers, who would bring 
out a strip of carpet to spread before him, then whatever 
they had to eat, the best they could offer. He got at¬ 
tached to these simple, hospitable folk, who always re¬ 
fused money, but since the Greek occupation he has 
found only charred ruins of former homes, of the owners 
not one remains. He is, of course, filled with indigna¬ 
tion, but remember that Italians are very unfriendly to 
Greeks because they are in possession of Greek islands 
which they refuse to give up. We arrived in Ephesus 
soon after eleven. The little hotel there belongs to a 
German who built it with modern conveniences and set 
an example of cleanliness which is still continued. The 
building is in a garden of fruit trees, flowers and shrub¬ 
bery. I saw with pleasure a hedge of myrtle. Wherever 
the German goes he has myrtle, either in pots or in 
hedges, for that is used in weddings just as orange blos¬ 
soms with us. After lunch we ordered horses for the 
ruins. The hotel keeper, a Greek, tried to impose a car¬ 
riage, but I had Mount Pagus fresh in mind and de¬ 
manded horses. As I mounted my nag and remembered 
how many times I had fallen from horses (Cook and 
Son’s horses) all through Palestine and Syria, I was in 
considerable trepidation and charged the proprietor to 
enjoin on the guide to go at a snail’s pace. I found, 
however, that I was mounted on a horse as gentle and 
docile as a lamb. When once my confidence was fully 
gained I cantered off leaving the guide to Nellie who 
was mounted on a rather perverse beast. I soon con- 


155 


Through Old Eyes 

vinced myself that my former painful experiences were 
entirely due to the horses themselves, and felt elated ac¬ 
cordingly. We went everywhere among the ruins of the 
great temple of Ephesus, over the marble-paved “Via 
Sacra” leading to them, picturing to ourselves St. Paul’s 
burning zeal as he, with loins girded, made his way along 
this street. We wished for the Bible, to read it all over 
again. Some of these excavations are most beautiful as 
well as interesting, the Theatre, the Agora, and the Gym¬ 
nasium, but our guide did not take us to the different sites 
in the order given by our book. So we lost much time in 
trying to identify buildings which would have been simple 
with a horse-boy who knew a few words of another 
tongue than Greek. Then it began to drizzle and I remem¬ 
bered that the trimming on my bonnet dissolves readily in 
rain, so casting every other consideration aside I let my 
horse carry me home in fine style, very proud of being 
able to stay on his back. I went to bed while Nellie 
received a visit from the young Greek archaeologist. She 
soon came to my room to tell me what a remarkable man 
he was, familiar with the history of philosophy from its 
origin, knew all about Heraclitus, father of modern 
thought, perhaps of evolution; and yet this young man 
was only twenty years old. I crawled out of bed, and as 
it was cold I enveloped myself in all my wraps, and with 
the rug for my knees, I went to the parlor to meet the 
youthful prodigy. He spoke French with some facility 
so I said: “Monsieur, you behold, if you permit me to 
make such a comparison, the grandmother of Heraclitus. 
I certainly feel old and feeble enough at this moment to 


156 


A New World 


justify me in saying this.” He was a modest young man 
and made himself very agreeable, disclaiming any par¬ 
ticular knowledge of archeology or of philosophy. He 
had derived his erudition from a German pamphlet, de¬ 
scribing the ruins, which he showed me. He is only the 
temporary head of the excavations in this time of change. 
He offered to guide us everywhere if the rain would only 
cease. I was eager to mount that kindly-disposed nag 
once more, but the rain came down steadily for the rest 
of our stay. I tried to get all the information I could 
from the hotel-keeper and from the archaeologist. The 
former, in answer to my inquiry, said: “Ephesus has 
always been Greek. There were only fifteen Turkish 
families in the village; all disappeared now, perhaps in 
the mountains. Yes, they were brigands and their homes 
have been destroyed to get rid of them.” This was all I 
could get from him. The young Greek scientist gave 
practically the same information: “There were brigands 
in the mountains, they cut off the Greek soldiers when 
they had the opportunity, and so forth.” All of this 
is possible, but how many innocent have perished for 
every robber. 

We had been invited to the Y. W. C. A. to dinner on 
the evening we were to get back from Ephesus. We did 
not arrive in Smyrna until nearly half-past eight in a 
steady downpour of rain. We did not know how to tell a 
Greek driver to take us to the Y. W. C. A. A man, who 
spoke a few words of English, on being asked “What is 
Christian women in Greek?” said he didn’t know. It all 
seemed hopeless, in such a rain too, so we determined to 


157 


Through Old Eyes 

return to the hotel, but at the station we found Mike, 
Mr. Treat’s chauffeur waiting to take us to the dinner. 
I liked Mike from previous drives, notably to Paradise. 
After having spent many years in America he speaks a 
pretty good American. I felt a desire, which I restrained, 
to fall on Mike’s neck. He is very jovial, and has a large 
generous smile, showing fine teeth. We had a quiet, 
delightful family dinner at the social center. Mr. Treat 
was there. He lunched with us today and I asked him 
what he thought of the work of the Y. W. C. A. He is 
enthusiastic about the good they are doing. They have 
four hundred Greek girls enrolled as members, two 
hundred and fifty Armenians, one hundred and fifty 
Jews, thirty-five Turks and fifty-five of other nationali¬ 
ties. I asked why they had so few Turkish girls, 
“Because the social center being in the Greek quarter, the 
Turkish girls are afraid of the Greek soldiers.” These 
ladies are extremely desirous of founding a social center 
settlement in the Turkish quarter, which would be very 
desirable. Mr. Treat sent his car this morning to take 
me to see what the Y. W. C. A. have done with the stable 
they had acquired. The workmen were just finishing off 
the interior in order to deliver it clean and in good order 
tomorrow. It is now entirely appropriate to its purpose. 
As the big carpet factory is only a few yards away I 
asked Miss Forsyth, who accompanied me, to take me 
there also. When I found myself in a large Oriental rug 
factory I bewailed the fact that Nellie was not with me. 
I have seen more than one of such factories in India and 
I am less interested in such things than she. The 


158 


A New World 


manager, an Armenian, showed me everything. He pays 
the annual dues to the Y. W. C. A. for each girl in the 
factory, which shows his wisdom. He does not sell the 
carpets; that is done by the warehouse in the city, but he 
told me the price, nine Turkish pounds for twenty-six 
square inches, not quite five dollars. I asked if they 
made any rugs which could be used on each side. No, 
only rugs with the pile on one side. I said I had seen 
in Paris rugs that were very pretty, but were thin and 
cheap, having the look of silk. He said he had never 
seen any of that kind, but should judge them to be 
mercerized cotton. 

Mr. Treat remained with us sometime after luncheon. 
He is very pleasant and entertaining, has promised to 
give us a letter of introduction to our Consul at Athens. 
This will be a decided advantage and I feel extremely 
grateful to this dear young American. His chauffeur, 
Mike, told me this morning, when taking me to the 
renovated stable, that all the consulates of Smyrna employ 
Turkish help only, because, Mike added, “they are so 
honest.” Mike is a Greek, but also an American citizen. 
He is the only Greek employed in the American Con¬ 
sulate he says. Miss Forsyth told me that Turkish girls 
were by far the most charming they had. They possess, 
she said, all the charm of an American girl and are truth¬ 
ful and reliable. I could not but acknowledge that it was 
a great advantage to a people to have a religion which 
enjoins with clearness and precision the duties of truth¬ 
fulness and honesty. The religion of the Turks does 
this, though its fanaticism makes it a danger to the world. 


159 


Through Old Eyes 

I cannot but believe that Christ inculcated truthfulness 
and upright dealing, but these precepts did not suit the 
state of mentality of the Byzantine, or the latter part of 
the Roman period, when pious frauds in miracles were 
thought praiseworthy, since they brought in a rich harvest 
of converts. The people demanded miracles to meet the 
competition of rival pagan religions. To judge these 
pious miracle workers by their motives one must be 
lenient. I spoke to Mr. Treat of the scandals of the war 
period, and even for some time thereafter. He said: 
“Yes, I myself have seen as many as fifty young people 
traveling for pleasure on funds provided by charity at 
home.” It was an outrage, but all classes were taken 
then into the Y. M. C. A. and into that of the Y. W. also. 
He spoke of the work of the latter in the East with 
unrestricted praise. They reach the womanhood of the 
country, which the Y. M. could not do. I asked Miss 
Forsyth if young men were permitted at the amusements 
provided for the girls over here, I mean for the Greek, 
Armenian and Turkish girls. She said no, American 
boys and men could, however, come to them for the use 
of their books and newspapers. This saved many of them 
from the degrading night life of the city. Mr. Treat 
thought the Y. M. C. A. was also doing good, but their 
work was necessarily confined to men and boys. As for 
the boys the Y. W. take charge of them also. 

We leave tomorrow at eleven. Mr. Treat says he is 
coming to see us again. We are well content to have 
come here, but eager to get to Athens. There is too little 
comfort in this hotel. At night such feeble light that we 


i6o 


A New World 


can do nothing, and generally no electricity even of this 
feeble description, but only thin, short candles (with no 
candlesticks) lying on little saucers. Then the food is so 
badly cooked that I find it hard to digest. I believe we 
are paying as much as in the Pera Palace Hotel where 
the cooking was excellent and the portions double those 
served here. We have had guests here, and were ashamed 
of what was served them. In Constantinople this was 
never the case. Nellie laughs much at the name of this 
hotel, “Splendid Palace.” It is because of the dancing- 
hall I suppose, nothing else warrants it. 

Hotel Angleterre, Athens, 

Nov. 14, 1921. 

We were charmed to leave Smyrna behind us, Mr. 
Treat of the Consulate, and those dear American girls 
the only mitigating circumstances. Our hotel had on one 
side “Cramer Hotel” and on the other “Splendid 
Palace.” I could not allow myself in a letter to describe 
too accurately this “Splendid Palace.” But the bills 
were strictly honest, even to taking off the price of the 
butter (from the early breakfast) which was uneatable. 
They treated us as well as they could, and now that we 
are away I am willing to feel grateful. 

On the trip over I got acquainted with a Greek staff 
officer just from the front. We had some very animated 
discussions, and he was really eloquent in defending his 
people from the charge of massacring the Turks. “What 
were those few outrages compared to the systematic 
destruction of the Greeks and the Armenians by the 


Through Old Eyes 161 

Turks? Those dreadful drives from the coast towns, 
those deportations to the islands; and of those many 
thousands how few returned! and to find nothing left of 
their possessions. From wealth to beggary, children and 
old people dead from hardships. If, when the Greeks 
entered Smyrna, some passionately aggrieved ones were 
excited to revenge, what wonder ?” But he didn’t believe 
it! He had reason to believe that it was the fanaticism 
of the Turks which started that massacre, which after 
all was a very small affair, and so forth and so forth. 
This young man is a grandson of Dr. Schliemann, and 
his grandmother, the widow of the great man, is living 
still in Athens. The American consul, who knows her 
well, told Nellie this anecdote which Mrs. Schliemann 
is said to tell on herself: When Dr. Schliemann came 
to Athens full of his idea of discovering Troy he 
let it be known that he longed to meet a young 
Greek lady who shared his ideals. The young lady 
who became his wife obtained books on archaeology 
which she studied, then she memorized many pages of 
Homer, all of which she used so happily on the enthusi¬ 
astic archaeologist that his heart was completely won. She 
made him a most excellent wife, entering into all his 
plans and sharing his ambitions, thus contributing toward 
his success. Our Consul, Mr. George of Alabama, has a 
charming Irish wife. The two took luncheon with us 
Saturday. I talked mostly with the young wife as Mr. 
George was afraid to speak loud enough for me to hear 
him. One has to be very cautious in these countries. 
Mrs. George and I talked much of Ireland and deplored 


A New World 


162 

conditions there. After lunch they took us in their car to 
the Acropolis, as far as a machine can go. Athens is 
startlingly clean after the filth of Smyrna and it has so 
many beautiful points of view. I always see the views 
from the Stadium and the Acropolis with renewed 
pleasure, for this is the fourth time I have been here. 

We have a chambermaid in this Hotel who speaks 
German. She is not German, nor has she any love for that 
nation, but she speaks the language well. She is from 
Moravia which you know is a part of Czechoslovakia 
(Bohemia, Moravia, Slovakia). She is an intelligent girl 
and very attentive to me. I got her this morning to bring 
me her last letter from her father, a cabinet maker who 
lives in the village of Buchlowitz where one of Count 
Berchtold’s castles is situated. The father’s letter was 
remarkably interesting. He began by thanking his son 
and daughter for the money they had sent him, described 
the dreadful drouth which is still unbroken and which 
will force him to kill, or sell, his cattle; then he relates 
that the old John Huss Church, which stands by the 
ancient cemetery and was in such a dilapidated condition, 
is now being repaired and will soon be ready for services; 
that meantime they have services in the school-house; that 
half the population have gone over to the new National 
Church, and he believes it to be a very good religion. 
Many priests have adopted it and married. He speaks 
of an acquaintance of theirs and says she got the Pope’s 
permission to leave her convent where she was regarded 
as a saint, but once out of the convent she has gone over 
to the new Church and is now so gay and merry one 


Through Old Eyes 163 

would hardly recognize her. She is seen everywhere, and 
always laughing and happy over her newly-acquired 
freedom. He mentions that Countess Berchtold has 
come over from Switzerland and is now at the castle, but 
her husband will not leave Switzerland. The Countess 
had been to see them, and asked about Fannie and Carl 
(maid and waiter in this hotel )and wanted to know if 
Carl is now a good cook. He says that his other son, 
after having served six years in the army has been called 
again to the colors because of the troubles in Hungary, 
and they are all much grieved over this, not knowing 
when he will be free from military service. He says 
preparations are now going on for the winter theater for 
the villagers, wherein the school children and their 
parents act, trained by the teachers. Fannie tells me her 
father acts comic parts and the four children who remain 
at home all act in the plays. The father, Petrick, speaks 
six languages. The language of the country is Slav; they 
can understand Russian, Serbian and any other Slav 
tongue. German was taught in the schools, forced on 
them by the Austrian government, which did not permit 
a Slav language in the schools. Fannie says her father, 
when he had finished his apprenticeship, went on a walk¬ 
ing tour through many countries. He went as far as 
Jerusalem, always where possible on foot. She says the 
village people are firmly convinced that the war was 
decided on in Buchlowitz. They had seen the statesmen 
arrive at Count Berchtold’s castle in the village, where 
they believe the fatal document, which precipitated the 
war, was signed. The Count became in consequence of 


164 


A New World 


this belief very unpopular. He owns the village and an 
immense estate in that part of the country. He tries to 
combat the prejudice against him, by devoting a large 
part of his revenues to public works and for the public 
benefit. His wife and son often reside in the castle, but 
the Count, she says, is afraid to leave Switzerland. It 
would be hard to find a town in our country where the 
working classes are so intelligent as in this Moravian 
village. I believe the Slav language, furnishing a medium 
of intercourse between so many countries, and so dif¬ 
ficult, makes the people who speak it more intelligent. It 
is almost an education in itself. 

Mr. Hall, American Charge d’Affaires, has called on 
us and has invited us to tea tomorrow at the Legation. 
Yesterday we met Major Schallenberger, Military 
Attache at Belgrade and Athens, dividing his time be¬ 
tween the two cities. When I was introduced, Mrs. 
Schallenberger asked if I were in Sofia this summer, and 
then said: ‘‘But where is your niece?” Mrs. Kemper 
had told her all about us. She is a great friend of the 
Kempers. When they found they would be charged 
$500.00 to have their car brought here by train, they 
determined to make the trip in it. Now in Macedonia 
and Thessaly the mountains are infested by brigands, 
but the Schallenbergers believe these brigands are friendly 
to the Americans for it is said they spent some years in 
the U. S. before the great war and use the Americans 
well who fall into their hands. This is mere report, but 
the Schallenbergers believed it, and had not the slightest 
fear during their long trip. As they were nearing the 


Through Old Eyes 165 

end of their journey they sent one of their children to a 
field, where a peasant was working, with some provisions 
they no longer needed. The peasant came to the car and 
told them in good American that he had lived for years 
in that blessed land, but had returned to his native 
country to remain. “Why did he not wish to go back 
to America?” “People had to work too hard over there.” 
I certainly agree with that artless peasant. If one has 
to toil winter and summer with no time off except for 
sleep, what privilege is there in being a human being? 
Should not a man have a few hours each day for mental 
culture or recreation? But if these are considered the 
exclusive prerogatives of the upper classes should not 
the manual laborer have at least some time each day to 
work about his home for wife and children? Mr. Ford 
and a few others have shown that humanity and justice 
are not incompatible with good business. I certainly hope 
the day will yet come when it cannot be said of America 
that our workers have no leisure except when factories 
and mines are closed. 

Athens, 
Nov. 19, 1921. 

I shall only begin this letter as we leave this morning 
by train for Patras. The Schallenbergers turned out to 
be the most charming acquaintances. He was on General 
Pershing’s staff the first year in France, but when the 
fighting began he went to the front. He is so modest 
and soldierly he will not speak of himself, but is an 
enthusiastic admirer of General Pershing. I think they 
resemble each other in bearing and general appearance. 


A New World 


166 

The Schallenbergers’ children are remarkably intelligent 
and very good. They already speak more than one 
language which I think develops a child’s intelligence 
very much. When their parents took us driving they 
sat in front with the Serbian chauffeur and chatted gayly 
with him in Serbian the whole time. This language will 
introduce them to the other Slav languages of the Balkans 
as well as to Russian. Major Schallenberger says I am 
mistaken in supposing the Serbians to be particularly 
militaristic. I had said all the inhabitants seemed to me 
to be soldiers. He explained that they had nothing to 
wear except their uniforms, but they are engaged in 
peaceful occupations, mostly farming. He sympathizes 
with them in wishing for a frontier suitable for protect¬ 
ing themselves from Albanian raids. It would seem that 
the Albanians of the mountains are like the ancient High¬ 
landers and replenish their larders by raids on peaceful 
populations within their reach, but if people are allowed 
to invade other lands to strengthen their frontiers where 
will it end? We took lunch with the Schallenbergers 
yesterday at the Grande Bretagne to which they moved 
from this hotel. We miss them dreadfully and feel almost 
as though we were kin to them. After the luncheon, to 
which Mr. Hill, head of the American School of Archae¬ 
ology, was also invited, we went driving and had a 
delightful afternoon. Mr. George, our Consul, recom¬ 
mended us to the Schliemanns, and the head of that 
family, old Lady Schliemann, immediately offered to in¬ 
vite some of her friends to meet us. The Schliemanns 
live in a superb house with a noble gateway leading into a 


Through Old Eyes 167 

garden, on one side of which is the home of Venizelos. 
This question between Venizelos and the Royalists 
divides the Schliemann family, as it does so many others 
in Greece. The only son is a stanch supporter of the 
throne. The King's children and the Schliemann’s were 
brought up in great intimacy. Among the pranks of 
these youngsters long ago was this: Alexander, the young 
king who died, placed himself under the Venizelos 
window while the Schliemann boy stood on his shoulders 
to cut off the Venizelos electricity. That statesman felt 
constrained to go over next day to see Madame Schlie¬ 
mann and expostulate with her on the conduct of her 
scamp of a son. We had a most delightful visit to the 
Schliemann home. The old lady (more than ten years 
younger than I), was most amiable, and took me from 
the salon to see some wall paintings and a beautiful 
tessellated floor with designs from Troy. She was so 
charmingly attentive that I felt emboldened to ask her 
about the truth of the story as to how she caught her 
distinguished husband. She was not in the slightest 
degree annoyed at my indiscretion, and offered to tell 
me the whole story, but asked “Why don’t you read his 
life?” Why do I not read a thousand books which I 
ought to read? Well, a firm of London bankers sent Dr. 
Schliemann, then a young man, to California during the 
gold craze. He was very successful out there. He next 
went to Russia where he engaged in commerce making a 
large fortune. His boyhood dream was always to dis¬ 
cover Troy. Finding himself with millions at his dis¬ 
posal, he began by learning ancient and modern Greek. 


168 


A New World 


He was so much pleased with his teacher, he asked him 
to procure the photographs of his family and send them 
to him in Russia. Among these photographs was one of 
a young girl not quite seventeen, very beautiful I imagine, 
though the old lady was silent on that point. The Doctor 
telegraphed the mother that he was coming to Greece and 
not to affiance her daughter before he arrived. In his 
first interview he asked the girl; “When did the Emperor 
Hadrian come to Greece?” “In 123 a.d.” This ap¬ 
peared satisfactory: “Have you ever read Homer?” 
This was the moment of the young girl’s triumph. She 
began to recite the most eloquent passages she had learned 
at school. His heart was completely won. He was forty- 
seven, she nearly seventeen, but he was vigorous, youth¬ 
ful and enormously wealthy, the future belonged to him. 
She entered into his schemes with enthusiasm. They 
began with Troy. He had no trouble with the Turks. 
All, high and low were willing to take “backsheesh,” and 
Troy was discovered. The next move was Mycenae. 
Here, when he came to the tombs, he dismissed the work¬ 
men and piled the wonderful golden ornaments into his 
wife’s basket. The government took possession of them, 
but he had wealth and fame. 

I must tell you an absurd incident which took place at 
this reception. It was told me of a gentleman sitting 
near. “He speaks English.” Assuming him to be Greek 
with imperfect knowledge of English and finding him 
silent, I began a very clearly spoken exposition on various 
subjects embracing the policy of England in Ireland and 
in the East, explaining every word I thought above his 


169 


Through Old Eyes 

comprehension, he answered in monosyllables when I 
asked; “Do you understand me?” At last exhausted I 
learned that he was a very cultivated Englishman, in fact 
the head of the Archaeological Society of his country in 
Greece. I suppose he attributed my prolixity to ap¬ 
proaching senility, but he was patient with age as an 
Archaeologist should be. He talked very freely after I 
had exhausted myself. He thought the English had 
made the great mistake of giving a Western education 
to Indian youth. I thought any education which in¬ 
cluded English was bound to open the books of the world, 
with all their new ideas, to the youths of any country who 
had average intelligence. I thought there was only one 
safe and honest policy now for the great nations to 
pursue, and that was to cease exploiting the peoples under 
their care, to serve them and prepare them for self 
government, as I hope we are doing in the Philippines. 
The Georges have been perfectly charming to us. The 
pretty little wife, who is extremely intelligent, came to 
see us yesterday. To comfort Sedley over his losses in 
exchange while in France, let me tell him Mr. George’s 
experience. The latter had many thousand dollars to 
invest and put the whole in drachmas at six to the dollar, 
an apparently favorable investment. The war in Asia 
Minor has already brought Greek money to twenty three 
drachmas to the dollar. A truly formidable loss to the 
Georges. He says whenever rent day comes he grieves 
afresh over his losses. Everything has augmented in 
in price, but his finances were settled on the basis of six 
to one. His wife calls him Billy, and they are a fine-look- 


170 


A New World 


ing couple. He is singularly like my boy Bill when the 
latter’s face is in repose. To judge American Consuls 
by Mr. Kemper, Mr. Ravndal, Mr. Treat and Mr. 
George, they certainly belong to our elite. The Charge 
d’Affaires, Mr. Barton Hall, was taken ill and went to 
the country, promising to entertain us on his return. I 
think that gentleman needs a wife dreadfully, but I was 
too discreet to mention this subject at our first interview. 
I was introduced to the Armenian minister in this hotel 
and he gave up an evening to talk with me. I wanted, how¬ 
ever, to hear of the present state of Armenia while he 
wanted to present the case of his country on historical 
grounds, going far into the past. I needed no convincing 
as to the wrongs of Armenia and how badly it had been 
treated by the great powers all these centuries when the 
Armenians could have enjoyed every right of the Turkish 
population had they only given up their religion. I am 
often told they are a poor lot whose word cannot be 
relied on. I think we have a lot of Americans whose 
word cannot be relied on, though they should all have a 
high sense of honor, never having been enslaved by any 
other nation. Why then be so hard on a people whose 
existence has been a long martyrdom ? 

I met a gentleman who followed the Greek armies and 
who returned only last July from the Asia Minor front. 
He said the Greek garrison was hurried to Smyrna with¬ 
out any precautions being taken to avoid a clash between 
the fanatical elements. Then on their further march into 
the interior, the town of Aidin was taken and retaken. 
The Greeks first massacred all the Turkish population and 


Through Old Eyes 171 

burned their houses. The Turks, on re-entering per¬ 
formed the same service for the Greek inhabitants, thus 
reducing the town to a heap of ruins. When news of 
these events reached Athens all were heartily ashamed of 
the excesses of the troops, though the provocations to 
vengeance were extreme. A personal friend of Venizelos, 
Mr. Sterghiades, was then sent to Smyrna where he still 
remains and is bringing order out of the chaos in the 
relations between Turks and Greeks. I am told he 
punishes Greeks, convicted of outrages against Turks, 
more severely than the Turks for like offences, rightly 
holding that the Greeks belong to a higher civilization 
and a more humane religion and that they are con¬ 
sequently more responsible in the eyes of the world. 
This gentleman whom I am quoting says Smyrna has 
never been so well governed. He was in the interior of 
Asia Minor and said the words “the grass never grows 
where the Turk rules” came often to his mind. No trees, 
no grass. The peasantry scratch the upper soil merely. 
He missed the verdure, especially the trees, as the country 
had been denuded of them. To understand what Moham¬ 
medan fanaticism means, let one read the daily reports 
from India where the Moslems were roused against the 
English by inflammatory propaganda; but to them all 
unbelievers are alike, and not being able to get at the 
English, unoffending Hindus are being exterminated 
wherever they can be reached and their villages razed 
to the ground. When I said to my informant that he 
should not be so severe on the Armenians because many 
of them lacked a nice sense of honor, that we had only 


172 


A New World 


to consider our own people, how far short many of them 
fell in this respect, he told me this story, for which he 
vouches: After a dinner party in a New York Hotel a 
bill was presented which contained an item for a sugar 
bowl $6.00. When asked for an explanation the waiter 
whispered, “It is in the muff of the young lady.” An 
American lady told me that one of her souvenir pieces of 
china was taken by her from an hotel. With such 
mothers can we wonder that our soldiers in France took 
souvenirs till the shops had to be closed at their approach ? 
Yet we are so censorious in speaking of the failings of 
an unfortunate race. I could not get the Armenian 
Minister to tell me much about the present condition of 
that country. He says there is no Post to the outside 
world, only at intervals there comes to him a telegram. 
The Turks have taken about one-third of Armenia in 
the Caucasus, the Bolsheviki another third, and both rule 
rigorously. Those of his nation, who love freedom above 
all else, maintain a precarious existence in the mountains. 
He says: “The Allies owe a great debt to my country¬ 
men because during the war an army of Armenians 
joined the Russian forces in the Caucasus, and when 
Bolshevism had destroyed the morale of the Russian 
soldiers the Armenians remained an armed force re¬ 
quiring a Turkish army to face them, which would 
otherwise have been employed at the side of the Germans. 
And now after all our sacrifices and all the promises 
made to us we find ourselves abandoned to the ferocious 
cruelty of the Turks and to the plundering fanaticism of 
the Bolsheviki, so that even in the small remnant of our 


173 


Through Old Eyes 

ancient domain, we are enslaved as never before.” I 
reminded the Minister that the position of England in 
the East and Near East is a peculiarly difficult one, 
facing alone a furious wave of fanaticism all over the 
Moslem world. But does not America, too, owe a debt 
of humanity to this wretchedly oppressed race? And 
does our refusal to come to the aid of a suffering world 
do any good to our own people? In a League of Nations 
strengthened by America, how quickly could order be 
brought out of this chaos of crime and anarchy, and how 
little the experiment would cost us, for are we not told 
that we can enter the League on our own terms? If 
then the task proved ungrateful or unfruitful, could we 
not withdraw beyond the seas and resume our selfish 
isolation? Rome gave peace to the world by conquest. 
America could do so by good will. All the peoples of 
Europe are praying in their agony for peace as their 
only hope. Will History call this great Republic “The 
Peacemaker?” 

Patras, 
Nov. 21, 1921. 

We had a lovely journey from Athens here. The 
scenery all the way was exquisite, overlooking the 
Gulf of Corinth, and the country is the richest we 
have yet seen. Mrs. Schallenberger came in her car 
and took us to the station. We feel very near to those 
dear Schallenbergers just as though they were our own 
kin. 

Mr. George gave us a letter to our Consul here, Mr. 
Stiles, whose wife immediately invited us to tea, her 


174 


A New World 


husband coming for us. We were delighted with the 
family and Mr. Stiles is to come again today to take us 
out there to luncheon. Yesterday afternoon while Mr. 
Stiles and I were discussing in a corner the affairs of the 
world, Nellie and Mrs. Stiles made a discovery which 
was of far more importance to us individually. They 
discovered that we were cousins, not only cousins to 
Mrs. Stiles, but to her husband, for both are related to 
the Dabneys of Gloucester. That made us feel at home, 
and when we were returning to the hotel, Mr. Stiles 
said: “You can tell the people here that you are my 
cousins and they will treat you well.” An American 
Consul is a power in these war-worn countries. We met 
some pleasant ladies there. The eighteen-year-old 
daughter is married very happily to an Englishman. The 
other daughter, Nancy, is just Mary Ware’s age and is 
also very pretty. 

Foreigners who come to the Near East to make 
fortunes, are met by the formidable competition of 
Greeks, Armenians and Jews, with which they find it 
extremely difficult to compete. But the Turks sell con¬ 
cessions with ease and have no scruples of conscience 
over the exploitation of their countrymen. All this 
makes Greeks and Armenians very unpopular. We leave 
tonight for Corfu, our faces turned homeward. 

Tirana, Capital of Albania, 

Nov. 26, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

As we left Patras at night we were able to spend the 
day with our newly-acquired cousins, who were kind 


175 


Through Old Eyes 

enough to send for us. Mr. Stiles was confined to his 
bed by a serious carbuncle, but his wife, Beatrice, and 
their charming daughter, Nancy, gave us a very happy 
day. After so many months in hotels, where one has to 
order meals, the luncheon seemed to us extraordinary, 
fit for royalty. 

We got on the Greek steamer at night, in darkness 
only lighted by the lantern of our guide. We reached 
Corfu next morning at nine and as Nellie was horribly 
seasick and absolutely helpless, I took a boat and went to 
the agency for information. I learned that there was a 
ship next day for the Albanian coast. I asked the 
Italian agent: “Is Valona worth stopping to see?” 
“No,” he answered, “It is entirely modern and uninterest¬ 
ing.” SoValona was given up. I had permitted a guide 
to attach himself to me. He conducted me to the agency 
and back to the ship, where I got Nellie packed up and 
off to the shore. The guide took us to what he 
represented to be the best hotel. The room was big and 
sunny with a lovely view from the two windows, but 
the restaurant did not suit Nellie’s fastidious taste and she 
needed food sadly, so she went to the other hotel where 
she had a good meal, and came back herself again, to my 
intense satisfaction. I could never have traveled as I 
have done had I not early conquered this painful and 
torturing fastidiousness. I therefore ate satisfactorily 
in our hotel restaurant without giving myself the trouble 
to change, more especially as Nellie told me there was no 
such view in the other hotel as the one we enjoyed from 
our spacious and sunny room. We took a carriage for 


176 


A New World 


the afternoon and went up to the Kaiser’s palace, which 
belonged originally to the Empress of Austria. We were 
not allowed to go in, but the views were lovely. There 
are not only a great many statues in the grounds, but they 
are thickly crowded along one side of the building. A 
gigantic statue of Achilles, made in Germany in 1909, 
overlooks the sea. A point far down on the shore Called 
the Canone, to which we went later, is marvelously beauti¬ 
ful. Corfu is certainly one of the beauty-spots of the 
world. 

We went to see the British Consul, who acts for the 
United States. He could give us no information and was 
extremely pessimistic, thought it a pity Gladstone had 
ever been born (Gladstone returned the Ionian Islands, 
including of course Corfu, to Greece), quoted his son as 
saying when people had a comfortable home and some¬ 
thing to live on, they were great asses to travel; was 
pro-Turk; said the Turks had never had a chance, as they 
came in contact mostly with the riffraff of the Western 
world; said his daughter had been for years in a German 
boarding school, but nothing would now induce her to 
shake hands with one of her former schoolmates. We 
bought our tickets from the Italian agent who was doing 
a thriving banking business. He discounted heavily our 
Greek money, though it was quoted at par with Italian. 
Guide and boatmen charges were exorbitant, so we found 
ourselves suddenly reduced from imaginary affluence to 
complete penury. On the ship we were informed that 
beds and board on the Lloyd Triestino were not included 
in the price of the tickets. 


177 


Through Old Eyes 

There was a wedding-party on board from Valona. 
As the bride’s brother spoke English, we got acquainted 
with the whole party. He took us to the stateroom of 
the bride, whom we found extremely pretty. They were 
all Mohammedans and wanted to know why we did not 
stop in Valona. We answered carelessly that the Italians 
had told us that it was not interesting. This they repeated 
to one another with growing indignation, and at Durazzo 
yesterday the governor came to see us about it. We 
were most repentant and tried in vain to show how un¬ 
important the matter was, but national feeling is very 
intense, and Valona, won from the Italians by the valor 
of the Albanians, is the pride of the new nation. The 
Governor, called Prefect here, is young, intelligent and 
intensely patriotic. All these Moslems assured us (for 
several came to see us in Durazzo) that religion played 
no political role in Albania, that nationalism was above 
all else. They all said they had cut loose from Turkey, 
not only politically but in religion, not acknowledging 
the authority of the Caliph. But to return to the wed¬ 
ding-party on the ship. Nellie soon became dreadfully 
seasick, though the sea was absolutely tranquil, so 
I talked to them, to each of whom I was introduced. 
One was the Mayor of Valona, which place looked so 
lovely from the sea I was really sorry we had not been 
able to stop off there. At midday the men of the wedding- 
party began to talk about getting out their baskets for 
luncheon and the bride’s brother asked us to join them 
in their meal. Nellie was lying down and couldn’t bear 
to hear about food, but I was curious to see what they 


i 7 8 


A New World 


ate and how they ate it. The ladies, the bride and a 
female attendant, were confined strictly to their state¬ 
room. But now a question arose, and I had to be let 
into the secret. The party had boarded the ship at day¬ 
break. Only the bride and lady attendant had first class 
tickets; all the others had third class. They did not need 
beds, and expected to sit in the first class salon. Ships 
between Italy and Sicily are very lenient to such passen¬ 
gers, but the Lloyd Triestino was inexorable to these 
Albanians, who were forced to vacate the salon, where 
we were all assembled, and spread their banquet some¬ 
where in third class surroundings. I was sorry; it would 
have interested me, and these Mohammedans were all 
worthy and honorable men, but the people of Valona 
drove the Italians out of their town, and there is no love 
lost between them. When we reached Durazzo, leaving 
debts behind us and with nothing worth mentioning in 
our purse, my spirits sank to zero. The boatmen de¬ 
manded angrily their pay. I told them I had no money, 
but would pay in the town. They threatened to hold our 
luggage. At last I said: “We are going to the Red 
Cross.” “Americans?” “Yes, Americans, w r e go to the 
Red Cross.” Our words were loudly repeated from one 
to the other. Their faces, which had worn angry scowls, 
now changed to smiles of welcome; porters were called, 
our luggage loaded on their backs, and off we started, so 
happy to have found protection in our American Red 
Cross. At the end of the long wharf was the passport 
inspector, and here also were preparations to receive the 
bridal party. A female band of violins and castanets in 


179 


Through Old Eyes 

front, male violinists behind. I am told these were all 
Albanian Gypsies. A Ford automobile awaited the bride, 
(the groom remained at his home in Durazzo). The top 
of the car was covered with lace and embroidery, which 
made it look a little sheepish under such unwonted de¬ 
corations, for it was a much-used veteran of the road. 
We wished to see the arrival of the wedding-party, but 
the porters came to say our things were at the custom¬ 
house, so we had to tear ourselves away from the gay 
scene. It was Thanksgiving in America and among 
Americans over here. All the inmates of the “Red Cross 
Nurses’ Home” were in Tirana for the celebration. The 
servants received us, and well for us that the owners were 
all away. The head of the Red Cross in Tirana had 
given strict orders that no tourists were to be admitted. 
He says his employees, men and women, are busy, with 
plenty to do and have no time to entertain tourists, or 
other idle folk. Well, unconscious that we were un¬ 
welcome intruders, we took possession of the house and 
had a nice quiet dinner, which Nellie declared was the 
best she ever ate. It was really very simple, but she had 
eaten nothing on the ship. We had this Thanksgiving 
dinner in the sitting-room, with a fire in the open chim¬ 
ney, very happy at solving our difficulties so pleasantly. 
The house-boy, an intelligent lad, received a telegram from 
the nurses at Tirana saying they would return that night, 
and to have a good fire. This suited us entirely as it was 
very cold. I went to bed hugging a hot water bottle. 
Nellie tried to sit up, but fatigue drove her also to bed. 
Late in the night the party arrived. We got acquainted 


i8o 


A New World 


with them next morning: Miss Trayan, an Albanian 
girl has studied much in the United States, and speaks 
serveral languages. Miss Warren, head of the house, the 
newly-arrived inspector of Nurses’ Homes, Miss Schal- 
lenberger, and finally Mr. Tyler. These three ladies we 
found to be intelligent and efficient trained nurses. Mr. 
Tyler is transport agent, and stationed at Tirana. He 
gave us a drive around Durazzo, and lent us Italian lire 
until we can sell our English money. It was such a 
satisfaction to settle our debt at the ship agency. On our 
return we received a visit from the Prefect inquiring 
into that Italian indignity about Valona, also one from a 
doctor employed by the Red Cross. We had a long talk 
with these gentlemen. Meantime all the personnel were 
at their work, and a busy set they were, with the mothers 
and babies. Miss Warren had found it necessary to 
discharge the cook, and after the babies had been dis¬ 
posed of, had to get dinner. She is very pleasing and 
good looking and can turn her hand to any kind of useful 
work. Mr. Tyler, having freight to take back, found 
the machine which makes trips from Durazzo to Tirana 
and engaged places for us. We heard with sorrow of the 
Draconian rules of Mr. Ambrose Kelly, the youthful head 
of the Red Cross in this part of Albania. I must say, 
however, that I approve of his rules, though they happen 
not to coincide with our comfort; but was the Red Cross 
sent here to entertain tourists? 

On reaching Tirana after a two and a half hours’ ride 
over very bad roads, we called first at the Red Cross, 
where we were told that it was impossible to take us in. 


Through Old Eyes 181 

We then came to this hotel, the most primitive inn I have 
ever seen, except the Khans of Syria. I did not see 
Mr. Kelly until yesterday the 27th, when he invited us 
to take lunch at the Red Cross Home. He seems to be 
a man of great decision of character, one who believes 
in efficiency and is determined to get things done. We 
enjoyed our meal immensely, so well cooked and well 
served. I was shown the school, the only high school 
in Albania. The youths are selected from all over the 
country, the best prepared and most intelligent from the 
primary schools. Great importance is attached to teach¬ 
ing English, which I consider a priceless boon to the 
backward peoples of the earth. After three months’ study 
the boys are speaking it very creditably. A great deal 
of vocational training is also given, of which there is 
so great need over here. These Red Cross workers are 
bringing a civilization to this backward land which must 
have far reaching consequences, for these youths are to 
be the future teachers of Albania. 

I have heard so many and such conflicting accounts of 
what is going on, and what has gone on, in this country, 
that I shall reserve any information on these mooted 
subjects till I feel I can speak with a little more assurance. 
The money used in Tirana is only gold and silver. We 
must purchase gold with Italian paper in order to pay 
our bills. We are told that the Albanians refused to sell 
to the Austrians during their three years’ war time 
occupation, except for gold or silver payments, which the 
Austrians allowed, as they wished to conciliate the 
population. Austrian money was not affected so dis- 


A New World 


182 

astrously till victory inclined decidedly to the Allies. The 
Red Cross finds its expenses far greater here than in 
surrounding lands with a purely paper currency. We 
hear dreadful things about the Serbian atrocities in 
Albania during the first Balkan war in I9 I2 > when 
Serbia seized a considerable strip of Albanian territory 
and, so say the Albanians, exterminated, or drove away 
the inhabitants. To my mind the best thing this country 
has done is to cut itself entirely loose from Turkey. The 
different religions, Mohammedan, Greek-Orthodox and 
Roman Catholic, work harmoniously together. The 
Moslems are from 60% to 70% of the population, yet 
they have chosen a Greek-Orthodox prime minister. The 
war on the Tirana government by the Mirdites, who live 
in the northern part of Albania and are Roman Catholics, 
has no religious character. The Mirdites were subsidized 
formerly by Turkey and they demanded a like treatment 
from the present Albanian government. They are ap¬ 
parently not influenced by the same intense national 
feeling as the rest of the land. Their request having 
been refused, they went over to the hereditary enemy of 
their country and now take a subsidy from Serbia, at 
whose behest they have been fighting their fellow 
countrymen. I am told that Austria built and left a 
perfectly equipped narrow-gauge railroad between Tirana 
and the port of Durazzo, and that the Albanians let it go 
to complete ruin, the inhabitants along the line even 
pulling up the rails to make enclosures with them, but 
others tell me the Austrians destroyed the rolling-stock 
before leaving, to prevent the Italians who followed them, 


Through Old Eyes 183 

from using it. There is no press in Albania except a very 
small, recently created one. I have seen no newspaper 
here of any kind. So each person tells his beliefs and 
reports what he hears. I have not read a paper since I 
left Patras and feel as though interned on a desert island. 

Nellie has just come to tell me that the hotel proprietor 
took her to the money-changers and that each, after 
carefully examining our British paper money, decided to 
have nothing to do with it, conceiving insurmountable 
suspicions of its genuineness. If we had supplied our¬ 
selves with Italian lire in Corfu, or in Athens, many 
worries and losses would have been spared us. Mr. Tyler 
has been our staunch friend in this emergency. He wrote a 
note to our landlord saying he would guarantee our hotel 
expenses. Everyone here is ignorant of whac is going 
on even a few miles from his home. The Red Cross 
is intent only on fulfilling well its work, and one does 
not hear any news from them. The days are too full of 
teaching and training. 


Tirana, 
Nov. 29, 1921. 

Yesterday was the great national holiday of Albania, 
anniversary of its freedom from the Turkish yoke in 
1912 during the first Balkan War. As this is the first 
year the people have been able to celebrate it in peace, 
great preparations, for such a simple, primitive people, 
have been made. We took tea the afternoon before at 
the Red Cross, where Mr. Kelly was most interesting and 
entertaining. That night there was much singing and 


184 


A New World 


laughter in the hotel, but as there is no drinking among 
these Moslems everything was orderly and peaceful. 
Nellie had fallen asleep and I was almost so when I 
felt myself being scalded by boiling water which was 
meant to heat the bed. I was so well tucked in I felt as 
though I were in wire entanglements, but extricated 
myself at last and called for help. Nellie was dazed with 
sleep and both the bed and I were thoroughly inundated. 
We had expected to remain two nights only so had 
brought no change of clothing. There was nothing for 
me to do but sleep in the small, single bed with her, 
drenched as I was, but she had a rubber bag full of hot 
water, so with this between us we got closely wedged in. 
The whole scene then came back to me in all its ludicrous¬ 
ness and in rehearsing it we got into such immoderate 
fits of laughter that we were warmed up completely. 
Nellie is a fine laugher, but apt to lose breath, which 
leaves her voiceless. She soon fell asleep, wearied from 
the day’s exertions. 

Yesterday, the day of the fete, dawned cloudy, windy, 
and of course very cold. Our host came at nine to ask if 
we would permit a grand Moslem dame to come to our 
room to see the procession in the piazza below. We 
granted the request, of course. But before the room 
could be put in order the lady arrived, accompained 
by fourteen other persons. We have only four chairs, 
which serve for wardrobe, closet, bureau and dressing- 
table. We have one very small, wobbly table besides. 
The ladies took possession of the five windows and the 
four chairs, our things having been piled in a corner. I 


185 


Through Old Eyes 

was in bed, but fortunately had combed my hair. Nellie 
soon left us but returned later with the news that Mr. 
Dako had come to take us to the Ministerial Reception 
nearby. She said: “You should have been dressed so 
as not to keep Mr. Dako waiting.” I answered a little 
indignantly “How could I, or should I, with this room 
full of people?” But I sprang up to perform that opera¬ 
tion under the eyes of the assembled company, my own 
being modestly cast down. Nellie told me afterwards 
that the ladies all ceased to look out of the windows, 
fixing their entire attention on me and my proceedings, 
for the time being far more interesting than the piazza, 
or the street. Now I am not accustomed to perform a 
complete toilet before a concourse of strangers, and it 
was extremely embarrassing to me, but it will serve them, 
I think, for winter evening entertainment, for as they 
neither read nor write, they have great need of subjects 
of conversation. We went to the reception, and the 
Prime Minister talked to me in French most affably. 
Nellie found an interesting young man in one of the 
ministers. Most of them spoke Albanian only. Wine 
and cake were served. The Prime Minister kindly per¬ 
mitted me to sit while the others stood. On our return 
we found our room still filled with our guests. I resumed 
my place in bed, till Miss Trayan came to take us to a 
nearby house, where we were introduced to many Moham¬ 
medan ladies. Some of them had suffered greatly during 
the Balkan wars. According to custom we were offered 
sweetmeats and water. One takes a teaspoonful of the 
sweets and a goblet of water. The young lady serving 


A New World 


186 

us, by an excess of deference to the American visitors, 
waited till we had swallowed our portion before serving 
anyone else. The teaspoons, after one helping, are put 
in a special goblet. I talked to the company as I had 
Miss Trayan to interpret for me, and they listened with 
apparent interest. Again on our return we found the 
room occupied by the Albanian ladies, who were coming 
and going all day. We took, however, our midday meal 
here, while our self-invited guests dined elsewhere, most 
of them doming back immediately afterwards. They 
stayed, three of them and two children, till after we had 
eaten our supper and later had begun to undress. We 
had felt sorry for the shivering three long before this, and 
Nellie lent a fur wrap and I a cloak to them. They 
returned these when they left us for the night, but when 
we peeped out and saw the poor creatures huddled in the 
hall we restored the wraps to them. They were waiting 
for their husbands to take them home, and these remained 
downstairs over the feasting, speech-making and singing 
till after midnight. Late in the night these tired women 
brought the wraps back. Nellie received them, as she had 
not slept. She told me this morning that the singing which 
was directly under us was very good, and that everything 
passed off harmoniously and in perfect order (no drink¬ 
ing of course). We had several appointments for yester¬ 
day afternoon, one with that good Miss Trayan who was 
anxious to show us a fine Turkish house nearby. I 
wanted also to see the Red Cross boys’ celebration at 
their school, but the weather got worse and I did not 
dare leave the hotel. I had tried to see the ceremonies 


i 8 7 


Through Old Eyes 

and the military display during the day, but I had two 
children on my small single bed and two persons before 
my particular window. However, I felt a genuine 
sympathy for these oppressed people who for the first time 
were able to celebrate in peace the anniversary of their 
deliverance from the Turks in 1912 under whom they 
had been drained of their revenues, which were taken to 
Constantinople, while they were left without roads or 
schools, for both of which they begged in vain. The 
history of their endeavors to educate themselves under 
persecution, the Albanian language being forbidden and 
their books seized, is most pathetic. 

The greatest inconvenience I felt from the room full 
of ladies yesterday was the dirt. We have been three 
days in this hotel and the room has not been cleaned at 
all nor has anything else been done. I believe these 
people, without proclaiming themselves communists, be¬ 
lieve that everyone should wait on himself and do his own 
work. They certainly act that way. Mud was tracked 
in till our floor resembled a pig-sty. I had wondered 
greatly why our little room had five windows, letting in 
the winter blasts, but no chimney. I soon understood. 
It was the assembly room for the host’s wife, children 
and distinguished friends on those occasions when there 
was something going on in the square below. It had 
been arranged with its five windows for that particular 
purpose, and the Mohammedan ladies made themselves 
at home accordingly. As they spoke Albanian only, there 
was no conversation possible between us. This morn¬ 
ing Nellie went down stairs and asked for a broom to 


i88 


A New World 


sweep our floor. There was none in the hotel, but the 
host obligingly sent out and bought one with which she 
cleaned the floor pretty thoroughly, and well it was that 
she did so, for we have had visitors most of the day. 
There is no running water in this house. All has to 
be brought from the town pump. I did not know this, 
and we have been calling on the servants for water at all 
hours. They evidently do not like such lavish use of so 
precious a fluid, and I cannot blame them. We now 
exercise a wiser economy in its use. The food here is 
about the poorest we have ever seen in our lives. They 
had turkey yesterday for the national festival, and we 
expected something good at last. But not wishing to go 
down to the men’s dinner we ordered ours somewhat 
earlier. The host sent out to a restaurant and procured 
us some tepid soup, very tough turkey with no gravy or 
rice, and perfectly uneatable potatoes. Nothing, how¬ 
ever, tastes good in this hotel anyway. We thought the 
salt served us the first day was mixed half and half 
with black pepper, but it had been scraped up from 
the earth and filled our teeth with sand and tiny gravel. 
We have not tried it a second time. 

The ladies yesterday were mostly dressed in black, but 
two were resplendent in the most gorgeous colors. Shirt¬ 
waists of a violent pink, bloomers of various brilliant 
colors, a long sash wound around the waist, a long wide 
apron of a cloth unknown to me, of very pleasing varie¬ 
gated colors, a bright colored silk kerchief over a raised 
coiffure, two strings of gold coins around the neck, one 
much longer composed of very large coins, the other 


Through Old Eyes 189 

shorter and of smaller gold pieces. Rows of still smaller 
gold coins ornamented the headdress, altogether a wealth 
of gold on each of them, and yet these were the ladies, 
dressed in all their costly finery, who sat huddled in a 
corner of the cold passage, near a pallet where the chil¬ 
dren lay. They couldn’t go home without their husbands. 

Mr. Charles Crane, our American diplomat, has done 
a great deal to help the educational movement in this 
country. He sends some of the young men and girls 
first to Constantinople and later to America to have them 
well taught. Many are now, I believe, serving their 
country as teachers. Mr. Dako, a great admirer of Mr. 
Crane, brought me a history he has written of Albania. 
It must be very interesting, for Nellie is reading it 
through as fast as she can, and can hardly be induced to 
leave it for anything else. Mr. Dako is a member of 
the Albanian Parliament and is a most intelligent man. 
His wife is in America on a lecture tour. The boys of 
the Red Cross made a splendid appearance yesterday 
marching by in their new uniforms. There were some 
exercises at the school in the afternoon, to which I was 
anxious to go, but the rain set in with increased violence. 
As the weather is bad today also, I fear I shall not get 
over to the Red Cross again before we leave. It is very 
near here, but there are no sidewalks and much rain. 
Some of the teachers of the girls’ primary school came 
to see us yesterday. It is curious to hear them speak 
with such hatred of Serbia, but after hearing Mr. Erick¬ 
son, who has lived over here some fourteen years, speak 
of the Serbian atrocities during the first Balkan War in 


190 


A New World 


1912 and more recently, not many months ago, I can 
appreciate their feelings. The Serbians were so eager 
to get back territory which belonged centuries ago to 
their kingdom, that they are said to have partly extermin¬ 
ated, and partly driven away the inhabitants of those 
lands. These people are now homeless, we hear, with 
the winter coming on. I cannot but think that these 
Serbian attacks have united Albania as never before. It 
seems now a united nation, though deprived of much 
of its legitimate territory. Nellie and I have changed 
our sympathies a good deal since coming here. We 
formerly took the Serbian view that the Albanians were 
brigands and robbers, but we find them very human, at¬ 
tacked too on every side by neighbors eager to annex 
the richest portions of their heritage, Greeks, Serbians 
and Italians. The two former have possession of im¬ 
portant Albanian lands and hope to acquire more. I 
still maintain, however, that the peoples are innocent, 
that their unprincipled and ambitious leaders inflame 
their minds with propaganda, and in the name of patriot¬ 
ism engage them in wars of aggression. 

An American whom I met recently gave me an account 
of a three days’ visit he paid to Fiume last year. 
D’Annunzio’s Minister of Foreign Affairs, whose ac¬ 
quaintance he had made in Trieste, gave him the invita¬ 
tion. His recital of their journey from Trieste to Fiume 
was very comic. The Minister of Foreign Affairs had 
to disguise himself beyond recognition to avoid arrest, 
while the American had to employ all his native wit to 
enable him to slip through the lines. Arrived in the city 


Through Old Eyes 191 

he was taken to a hotel and told that he must consider 
himself a guest of his friend the Minister, but no sooner 
had the generous and hospitable Minister of Foreign 
Affairs retired, than the landlord appeared to pour out 
his tale of woe. Everything commandeered, nothing 
paid for by the D’Annunzio gang. The young man 
took his meals at the Palace with officers and high digni¬ 
taries, but did not see the hero till the third day. Then 
news came that Prime Minister Nitti had ordered the 
arrest of all the D’Annunzio agents engaged in collect¬ 
ing contributions for the “cause” in Italy, and smuggling 
them into Fiume, their coats lined with banknotes. Great 
was the consternation in the D’Annunzio camp when this 
fatal news arrived. It was felt that a demonstration was 
necessary. This was most carefully prepared, and when 
the crowd appeared before the Palace windows, D’An¬ 
nunzio, who had been working all day on his impromptu 
speech, appeared on the balcony, and after expressing 
immense surprise at seeing his friends gathered so aus¬ 
piciously to his side, proceeded, by studied eloquence, to 
work them up to such a degree of wild enthusiasm that 
when at last he cried out, “On to Rome! to Rome!” the 
impassioned words drove the crowd to frenzy, and, not 
being able to swim the Adriatic to reach the city of Rome, 
they made a rush for the bridge leading over to the town 
of Sussak, inhabited exclusively by Jugoslavs, which they 
proceeded to pillage, incidentally killing some of its in¬ 
habitants before their patriotic ardor could be cooled. 
The Foreign Minister charged his guest not to leave the 
hotel, but the latter slipped out and visited various shops 


192 


A New World 


and establishments of commerce, where he heard the 
groans of merchants and industrials; business dead, sol¬ 
diers living by piracy, citizens in actual want, for nothing 
enters the town from the Jugoslav Hinterland. D’An¬ 
nunzio finally received the American just before he left. 
He described the poet to me as perfectly bald, small, 
sallow, one eye only, bad teeth, very homely, but with a 
voice which could charm individuals as it could move 
the multitude. The poet was most affable, but the young 
man was very glad to escape from Fiume, which he did 
so precipitately that he had no time to obey his friend, 
the Minister of Foreign Affairs, in having his passport 
viseed by him. 


Lussinpiccolo, an Island Town off Istria, 

Dec. 5, 1921. 

The day before we left Tirana we were invited by Mr. 
Kelly to dine at the Red Cross. He said two ladies were 
ill, and so there was room at the table for us. We had a 
charming evening. Mr. Kelly is a very cultivated man, 
whose motto would seem to be: “The Red Cross expects 
every employee to do his duty.” They work very hard. 
Mr. Kelly allowed us to take the Red Cross mail car next 
morning for Durazzo. I waited in the motor, while 
Nellie went in to say goodbye to such of the teachers as 
she could find, for all were at work. A crowd of boys 
gathered round the car where I sat, and having a man 
to interpret, I talked seriously to them, first about the 
past sufferings of their country, and then of its bright 
prospects. Winding up I said (knowing that the bane 


193 


Through Old Eyes 

of the Far and Near East consists in implacable religious 
hatred), “Remember that true patriotism must stand 
first in the duties of our lives, even above religion, for 
that is personal, whereas true love of country is unsel¬ 
fish devotion to the welfare of others.” Nellie says, 
“They all have already an overdose of patriotism.” But 
it is aggressive, with a robber’s greed. We were very 
glad to see the dear ladies of the Durazzo Red Cross 
again. We took a delightful lunch with them and were 
looking for our ship all afternoon. We went to bed that 
night in our clothing, expecting to be called at any mo¬ 
ment, but the steamer never came till next day at four 
o’clock p.m. to our inexpressible relief. Of course we 
did not let our stay be a charge to those dear ladies. 

Fortunately the sea was smooth among the many 
islands, for the weather had turned off beautiful. When 
we reached Ragusa, we went from the little port up to 
the town in a tram, taking a carriage to go over it. It 
is a most curious relic of the feudal ages with its mas¬ 
sive walls. Nellie said she couldn’t see any town at all 
for the immense walls. We had had a very early break¬ 
fast that morning and were hungry. As Nellie felt great 
repulsion to eating on board ship we tried to get a good 
meal at the big hotel of Ragusa, so fashionable before 
the war, now deserted and silent, but were told we should 
have to wait some hours, so we reluctantly returned by 
tram to the landing, where we dined in a second-class 
hotel. I was sure the dinner on the ship would have been 
better, as it lay quietly anchored at the pier. I have tried 
to tease and argue Nellie out of her self-torturing fastid- 


194 


A New World 


iousness, but to no avail. I reminded her that she is the 
only member of our family who has made a profound 
study of philosophy, and I ask, “What good have all those 
studies done you? If any one mentions the word ‘meat’ 
at table, you lose relish for the beefsteak on your plate. 
I have never studied philosophy, but I am far more 
philosophical, and can eat in an humble cabin when neces¬ 
sary.” This reasoning makes her laugh, but has no other 
effect. She says, however, that she is cured of one false 
idea she has cherished for years, namely that she was 
fitted for the life of hardship of an explorer. This 
coast is very beautiful and well worth seeing, but the 
days now are very short, and when cloudy or rainy, they 
are so uncomfortably cold that we could only huddle in 
the cabin. At Zara, the only Italian port on the Dalma¬ 
tian coast, it was raining hard. I was told by a lady who 
came on board there, that the Italians had put such an 
oppressive passport system into effect against the Jugo¬ 
slavs, who inhabit the Hinterland, that they have ceased 
to bring their produce to Zara. Consequently the poor 
city, which in Austrian times was very flourishing, is now 
pining away. Not only this lady, a charming Croatian 
told me this, but a most intelligent Italian said to me, 
“Zara is the only port we have on the Dalmatian coast, 
but it has very little commerce.” We heard it had none. 
Hatred inflicts its own wounds. The Croatian lady 
proved a charming conversationalist. Her husband has 
been serving on commissions ever since the war ended. 
He is now on the Reparations Commission in Paris. She 
came over here to see her father in Trieste, and an Aunt 


195 


Through Old Eyes 

in Zara, where she was brought up. A bride and groom 
also got on at Zara. I have never seen a couple act so 
ridiculously in all the course of my existence. Everyone 
was looking at them in amused astonishment while they 
hovered over each other. The man’s face was so un¬ 
naturally long that it looked like a horse’s, yet these two, 
as though they were entirely alone in their own boudoir, 
put their noses together, and cooed and billed in the most 
absurd way. On the second day out from Durazzo, we 
were told the ship would reach Lussinpiccolo that even¬ 
ing at nine, but after waiting till ten-thirty, we went to 
bed in our clothing, to be waked at three a.m. to leave 
the ship. We lost our third umbrella in Albania. It had 
been raining very hard, but mercifully the rain held up, 
though the ground was soaked. We were of course taken 
to the custom house, where our things were opened and 
searched, and then to this hotel. Our porter had much 
difficulty in waking the hotel porter while we waited 
outside on the wet ground in a cold wind. Then when 
we were at length admitted our beds had to be made and 
more covering brought, but there was no hot water to 
warm the beds and the room was very cold, so we did not 
undress. As soon as people began stirring this morning 
we demanded a fire in our stove, and asked for tea and 
bread. A man had to be sent through the pouring rain 
for tea and breakfast bread. The one o’clock dinner was 
very satisfactory, but not quite so good as the one on the 
steamer yesterday. We had offended the Captain the 
day before by preferring to dine at a second-class hotel, 
so Nellie had to make the “amende honorable” by ex- 


196 


A New World 


tolling his dinner. We devoted this morning to bathing 
and rest. The darkness comes on very soon and I am 
now writing by artificial light. The people of this hotel 
are Croatian. All the ports along the Dalmatian coast 
which belonged formerly to Austria have fine moles and 
quays, an example to the lands further south. 

Fiume, 

Dec. 9, 1921. 

Dearest Family : 

The day before we left Lussinpiccolo, the weather be¬ 
ing fine, Nellie walked to the suburb of Cigale, a winter 
resort of the island. Not being able to find the place she 
asked a nice looking gentleman where it was. He laughed 
and said, “You are in it.” Cigale consists of villas with 
gardens overlooking the sea. He then took her to all 
the beautiful points of view. The sunny bay was full of 
fishing boats, with colored sails, looking very lovely. The 
gentleman was cultivated and interesting. He was in 
the Austrian service before and during the war, but is 
intensely Italian in sentiment, “To get rid of the Haps- 
burgs was worth all the suffering the war has brought to 
my country, Istria,” he said. Nellie was so pleased with 
him she asked him to call on me that evening. He came 
with a friend, who was also intensely Italian in sympa¬ 
thy. Both belonged to the most cultivated class. The 
friend had served at embassies before the war as an 
Austrian subject. I asked about Fiume, as we were go¬ 
ing there next day. The first gentleman said, “Fiume is 
entirely Italian and should belong to Italy.” As I had 
read that the Italians had expelled all the Jugoslavs I 


197 


Through Old Eyes 

answered: “I believe it is.” I asked him if the Jugoslavs 
were prevented from entering Fiume as they are in Zara. 
He said of Zara: “It is the only port in Dalmatia allowed 
to Italy since the war. Of course we cannot permit the 
free entry of the Jugoslavs, as they would undoubtedly 
seize the occasion for propaganda.” I observed “Propa¬ 
ganda is most dangerous where the people are miserable 
and poor. If Italy would permit free intercourse be¬ 
tween the city of Zara and the Hinterland it would bring 
prosperity to the city.” I then told him of the visit I 
have just described to Fiume during D’Annunzio’s 
government, and of the ruined merchants who said, “If 
we could only get rid of D’Annunzio and have peace 
once more, it would bring us prosperity.” He retorted, 
“Oh, the merchants of Fiume, they and their parents 
speak only Italian, yet they sympathize with the Jugo¬ 
slavs, because it is to their interest. It is a money ques¬ 
tion with them.” I was amazed at this admission, and 
said: “I think the business men of a city know what is 
best for its interests. I should rather trust to their judg¬ 
ment than to that of the military, or even to that of a 
poet.” He could not see it in that light. I found him so 
narrow and prejudiced that it gave me no pleasure to talk 
to him. 

Our boat was to leave at six o’clock next morning. 
The two servants promised to call us in time and have 
breakfast ready, and they were true to their word. They 
carried our luggage and put it on the little steamer. The 
day was fine and by insisting on Nellie’s lying down 
while I stroked her head, she behaved pretty well. But 


198 


A New World 


nothing could induce her to eat on that boat. She says 
our roles are reversed when we are on the sea. As we 
neared Fiume, the little towns where our ship landed 
looked lovely in their quiet bays, and at each was a mole 
or quay. Austria did not put up with small boats to land 
her passengers and freight. It may have been militarism, 
but she deserves credit for those improvements. We are 
in the best hotel of Fiume and a very nice hotel it is. 
Our windows overlook the harbor where we see huddled 
together ships without sign of life, phantom ships, which 
slowly rise and fall to the heaving of the sea. No meals 
are served in this hotel. Our breakfasts are brought to 
us from a cafe, and we must go out in search of luncheon 
and dinner. On our journey here our ship put off 
nothing but mail at the landings. Trade is dead, for 
in this part of the world everybody across the border is 
regarded as an enemy. This morning during a drive we 
saw scratched on the walls in various places “Death to 
Zanella” (the President), but this was written during 
the election and was, no doubt, merely one of the ameni¬ 
ties of that campaign, cruder no doubt than our propa¬ 
ganda of lies, but far less effective I imagine. When 
Nellie went to the Consulate for letters she found our 
Consul, Mr. Keblinger, a Virginian by birth and married 
to a Mississippi girl. He came to see us, and proved a 
very cultivated and agreeable man. He says until trade 
is resumed there is nothing for him to do. He lunched 
with us one day and we with him the next. He sent his 
clerk this morning to guide us in a drive through Fiume 
and over to Sussak. We asked our maid before starting, 


199 


Through Old Eyes 

"Is the Bora blowing today?” She answered, “No, there 
is no Bora today.” The sun was shining beautifully, and 
the clerk, Mr. Dicklack, a Jugoslav, proved a very com¬ 
petent guide, though I found some difficulty in under¬ 
standing him. Fiume and Sussak are separated by a 
very small stream, spanned by a bridge where toll is col¬ 
lected. On the Sussak side the houses cover steep hills. 
When we had reached the height where there is a parapet 
on the edge of a precipice we got out of our vehicle to 
enjoy the fine view, but just as we were regaining it, the 
Bora struck us with such violence that I was thrown 
against the side of the carriage and dragged, while it was 
pushed forward, horses and all, by the force of the wind. 
At the same time my bonnet flew off toward the parapet. 
I never expected to see it again, and as it had shared 
many years of travel with me I suffered pangs of mental 
anguish as well as of physical pain. When at last I was 
able to get into the carriage Mr. Dicklack found my bon¬ 
net clinging to the base of the parapet and saved it. I 
am told that in Trieste in winter ropes have to be 
stretched across certain streets to keep the inhabitants 
from being blown into their harbor. All Fiume stamps 
have D’Annunzio’s head on them. As he is perfectly 
bald, they look like photographs of the top of a tomb¬ 
stone. It is very difficult now to get the post-office to sell 
certain kinds of stamps. They will soon be invalid, as 
this administration must give way to that of the new 
Free State of Fiume. The Post-Office refuses to sell 
the bright red ones, sells only those necessary for letters, 
which are dull and ugly. 


200 


A New World 


I heard the story of the poor French soldiers, who 
were massacred here after the Armistice, and had the 
place pointed out to me. The English Admiral sent 
message after message to our American Admiral An¬ 
drews to come up to Fiume to help him keep the peace, 
but Admiral Andrews did not wish to involve the United 
States in any complications, so he refused to come. No 
doubt his conduct was justifiable, but we should have 
loved him better had he come and saved the lives of inno¬ 
cent men. Unselfish courage whether moral or physical 
is very lovable. 

I found two letters here from Hedwig von Dorpowska. 
She writes with restraint, for fear of appearing to appeal 
to our sympathies. But those sisters must be suffering 
from actual want. I put two English pounds in a letter 
and got it off to them yesterday, but I fear it may not 
reach them, and blame myself now for not waiting till 
we get to Milan. 


Lausanne, Rosiaz, 
Pension de Famille, 
Dec. 18, 1921. 


Dearest Family : 

It seems ages since I wrote from Fiume, that poor 
dead city, waiting for the League, or some other enchan¬ 
ter to bring the circulation back into its collapsed 
arteries. This miracle it could work, of course, for itself, 
if it were only allowed a free interchange of products 
with its neighbors. The idle ships huddled together in 
the harbor without sign of life, were mute witnesses to 


201 


Through Old Eyes 

the folly of human beings. Mr. Keblinger came to the 
station to see us off. We liked him very much. After 
the lovely climate of Fiume, we found it very cold in 
Milan where we were in a fine, well-heated hotel near 
the station. I wanted to do some shopping there, but 
whenever I spoke of a new dress, Nellie would say 
“Aunt Mary, you need nothing but wraps. Who can 
possibly know what you wear under those cloaks and 
sweaters and jackets and scarves.” So letting Nellie 
dominate me entirely, I bought two cloaks and a shawl. 
A shirtwaist and a skirt were concessions from her. I 
have a fine joke on Nellie. She had lent me fifteen lire 
out of the common fund. Next day when I returned 
them to her she exclaimed, “You owe only half of that, 
for it came from the common fund.” I replied, “I bor¬ 
rowed fifteen lire and I must return fifteen lire.” She, 
much astonished answered: “I bought my watch in 
Fiume from the common fund and only put back half 
the sum, just as I have been doing all along.” I was 
obliged to laugh at such bookkeeping for she has put 
on very superior airs about her business capacity, know¬ 
ing that I count on my fingers, and could never learn the 
multiplication table. But I am a first-class business 
woman in spite of these trivial deficiencies. Nellie says 
now that even yet she does not quite understand keeping 
a common fund; there are mysteries about it, according 
to her. 

We had a disagreeable experience the evening before 
we left Milan. A strike had been called in honor of the 
funeral of a Facist who had been killed. We knew 


202 


A New World 


nothing of this, and when at 7 p.m. we wished to return 
to our hotel from the town, we were told that no vehicle 
of any kind could be had before next morning. The dis¬ 
tance was fully a mile, I could not have walked it. Nellie 
tried vainly for some time to stop a passing taxi and 
engage the driver to return for us. Impossible! At last 
in spite of her opposition I approached a handsome car 
and appealed to the young lady who sat within. She 
seemed doubtful, but soon the owner appeared. He had 
lived for years in England and when he understood the 
situation invited me into the car. Nellie insisted on walk¬ 
ing to the hotel, but the gentleman, with great delicacy, 
told us he was going our way and would be glad to take 
us both. He and Nellie had a lively conversation, and I 
felt grateful to the whole Italian Nation for his kindness. 
Strikes are hard on the old, the feeble and the helpless. I 
believe a few business men, experts in the questions in¬ 
volved and of known character and integrity, could solve 
almost any economic problem, but these Facisti are a 
political organization. We left Milan early in the morning, 
taking the Simplon route to Lausanne. Around Lake 
Maggiore the trees and foliage plants were encased in thin 
ice which the rays of the sun converted into a fairy scene. 

I am in a boarding house near Mary Ware’s school. 
That dear girl met us at the station, looking very fresh 
and happy. I have engaged passage to New York and 
am to sail from Cherbourg. I dreaded the North Atlantic 
route in winter and had hoped to sail from Genoa. It 
would have gratified me greatly to visit the Riviera with 
Nellie as she has never been there. San Remo offered 


203 


Through Old Eyes 

an ideal spot to pass the time while waiting for the ship, 
but as none sails to New York from Genoa, I had to 
abandon most regretfully that charming plan. The 
Lalaurette family would have joined us there. I have 
had a long letter from Madame Lalaurette inviting me 
to Bordeaux, where there is to be a reunion of the family 
to see the old father off to Martinique. They want me 
to meet this old gentleman. 

Nellie of course has rejoined Alice Searby at Leysin. 
I miss her greatly for she waited on me like a daughter. 
When we unpacked our luggage, so as to separate our 
things, it would have been very sad but for those long, 
brazen, imitation candlesticks. I had never let a word 
of complaint escape me during the trip from Constanti¬ 
nople, where I was put in charge of those monstrosities. 
I had to treat them with extraordinary consideration, 
otherwise their angular bases would have whacked off the 
necks of any bottles in their vicinity, or played havoc 
with my modest wardrobe. I swathed them and sur¬ 
rounded them with soft and yielding articles. When I 
returned them to their mistress I could say at last: “Of 
all the souvenirs of travel that I have ever seen from the 
Near or the Far East, these, with your Turkish coffee 
grinder which weighs some twenty pounds, and your 
package of Turkish coffee to perfume your clothing, are 
the most remarkable. Where other people buy in those 
regions rich embroideries and fine tissues of silk for 
scarves, for which the Orientals are celebrated, you buy 
two unwieldy pinchbeck candlesticks and a twenty-pound 
coffee grinder. As for me, the smell of very old coffee 


204 


A New World 


is repugnant, but of course that is a matter of taste. 
However I feel sure you will never use that coffee 
grinder, because our merchants grind coffee far better 
than the Turks, and as for your Turkish ground coffee, 
you will have to throw that away. In America where 
we use cream in our coffee no one will appreciate a cup 
half full of grounds, with only a tablespoon full of 
liquid.” We got into a great laugh over this talk, and she 
retorted that I thought there was only one use for money, 
and that was traveling to get information. Well, every¬ 
thing necessary can be bought at home, and information 
does not get us into trouble with the custom-house offi¬ 
cials or with our own consciences. After all, Oriental 
things look very forlorn and expatriated in our homes. 
People soon get tired of them. Nellie ended our con¬ 
versation by saying she feared I was giving her a very 
bad reputation in my letters. I assured her that her fears 
were fully justified. 

We read in the papers that a revolution had broken 
out in Albania, that the Ministers with whom we cele¬ 
brated so auspiciously the anniversary of their freedom 
from the Turks, have fled from Tirana, each man to his 
tribe. Nellie says she cannot associate frock-coats and 
champagne with tribal life and uprisings. My history 
of Albania relates that blood feuds still exist, and what 
is more remarkable if a man’s friend is killed, one whom 
he is protecting, it is considered the unpardonable offence. 
A father’s, a mother’s, sister’s or brother’s death can 
possibly be pardoned, but in the case of the murder of 
such a friend, a man’s honor is too deeply involved, only 


205 


Through Old Eyes 

the life of the murderer can atone for such a crime. 
From all I could hear while in Albania I believe that a 
commission of disinterested business men, including an 
American, could conduct the affairs of that country, and 
make it prosperous and happy. 

Nellie told me the following anecdote of Annie Marye 
when she visited them in Leysin: She went one day to 
the bathroom for hot water, but the pitcher leaked all 
the way back to her room. The maid followed to say 
she should ring the bell (sonnez) when she needed any¬ 
thing. Now, Annie Marye does not understand French, 
though she was able, in traveling, to guide other Ameri¬ 
cans who were in the same predicament. In the case of 
this hotel maid, however, she did not come off with fly¬ 
ing colors. Like many ignorant persons, the maid 
thought, by loud tones and iteration, she could make her¬ 
self understood. So, with a manner and a voice which 
appeared to Annie Marye to be decidedly threatening the 
maid kept repeating the word “Sonnez.” Annie Marye 
ran to Nellie to say the maid was calling her dreadful 
names. “What names?” asked Nellie. “She called me 
Sunny and even stamped her foot.” The landlord nearly 
had a fit when he heard this story. Now that Annie 
Marye has learned such an important word in French, I 
hope she will continue to progress in that language. She 
could easily learn a half-dozen languages in as many 
years with her intelligence. 

This afternoon I went out to post some letters. A bevy 
of lovely girls passed me, looking so charming, so stylish, 
so aristocratic, I was filled with admiration for them. 


2 o6 


A New World 


when all at once one of their number seized and embraced 
me. I was much surprised. It was Mary Ware. They 
came from Mt. Choisi. I have been invited twice to 
Mary’s pensionnat. Once to see a French play acted by 
the girls, and again on Saturday afternoon to see the 
poor children of this suburb receive their Christmas gifts 
from a tree specially prepared for them. Nellie, Alice 
and Camilla Loyall were also invited but arrived too late 
from Leysin to accompany me. Mary and her friends 
provided me with a comfortable arm chair near the 
Christmas tree, and one of them, a Serbian girl, remained 
by my side. I was glad to be able conscientiously to com¬ 
pliment her acting in “Le Mariage de Figaro,” and I ex¬ 
plained to her the historical setting of the piece, which 
interested her very much; how at its first appearance at 
the Court of Louis XVI it was regarded as of such an 
incendiary character as to endanger the privileges of 
nobles, clergy and royalty, and the King was severely 
blamed for permitting its performance. Those senti¬ 
ments, which today appear so commonplace as not to 
arrest attention, were regarded then as subversive of all 
authority. She wanted to know what I thought of 
Serbia. I could tell her I admired the energy of the 
Serbians in rebuilding so quickly their devastated towns 
and cities, but I felt impelled to blame them for their 
treatment of their neighbors. However, I could not be 
severe on the people themselves, who had suffered more 
than any other during the war. She said when I visited 
Belgrade again some day I was to come to her house 
and not go to an hotel. Alas! 


207 


Through Old Eyes 

When I returned from Mt. Choisi the Leysin party 
had not arrived, but they came in time for dinner. I 
had been very anxious about the impression this pension 
would make on them, especially on Alice Searby, who is 
accustomed to all the luxury of the Grand Hotel at 
Leysin. But that child is like me in disliking hotel fare, 
preferring the simpler table of a good pension. She 
enjoyed genuinely every meal she took in this house and 
praised it highly. I believe the visit here did her a lot 
of good. I read in my Swiss paper that “Androcles and 
the Lion” was to be given at a matinee last Thursday at 
the Pitoeff Theater. I had long wanted to see it acted, 
so we arranged to get the tickets Monday afternoon, as 
I had invited Mary and Anne Kent and the Leysin party 
to a tea in Lausanne on that afternoon. I inquired about 
the proper restaurant to please the girls, and heard that 
Madame Bovard avoided “Old India.” So I determined 
to take them there, as I had no idea of boring them to 
death in a place where there was neither music, nor a 
crowd. But first we undertook to find the Pitoeff Theater 
to secure the tickets. The first person asked directed us 
down a steep street, which Nellie explored but found no 
theater. The second directed us down an opposite de¬ 
clivity, the exploration of which proved equally futile. 
Meantime I espied an intelligent-looking man who took 
charge of us and only left us at the door of the theater. 
We had to stir up a woman to open the office, and when I 
asked for tickets for Androcles she said they were giving 
no such play, nor was there a matinee on Thursday of any 
kind. “What matinees have you?” “We have one to- 


208 


A New World 


morrow Le Maitre des Forges.” I bought seats in the 
front row when it suddenly dawned on me that my daily 
paper was published in Geneva. No one had told us there 
was no such theater in Lausanne. Everyone wanted to help 
us find it, attributing the name no doubt to our ignorance. 
After we had left the theater Nellie had to hurry back to 
ask at what hour the matinee would begin. No matinee 
at all! It was an evening performance! What would 
Madame Bovard say? But when the girls heard the news 
of the evening performance, great was their rejoicing. 
We went to “Old India” which was so crowded we could 
hardly make our way into the hall. Mary and Anne were 
delighted. Camilla, too, lends herself to everything. She 
is a most charming young person and I have conceived 
a great admiration for her. When, after pastries and 
chocolate had been disposed of, I inquired of the girls: 
“Do you want to go now?” “Oh, Granny, just one more 
piece!” These two young creatures were so eager to 
stay that their eyes shone with pleasure. They considered 
that they were out on a lark and that idea was sufficient 
to banish sleep and fatigue. Next day Alice got off to 
Leysin by the mountain railway. Nellie promised to 
hurry back to accompany the girls to the theater. 

I read the other day from a war correspondent that 
on one occasion he mentioned a chivalrous action of some 
Germans. The censor struck it out with the marginal 
note: “We do not want to hear of any good Germans.” 
When war is on the fighting spirit must be kept up by 
hatred. A propaganda of lies undertakes this, which is 
equally and appallingly efficient in politics and in war. 


209 


Through Old Eyes 

But how much easier it is to spread lies than to combat 
them when their purpose has been fulfilled! I do not 
believe that any newspaper in our country could have 
lived had it undertaken such a task after the Armistice. 
Even now how cautious they all are when handling this 
subject, and who can blame them? Lloyd George, who 
knew all about this propaganda, took advantage of the 
hatred it had aroused in the English election of 1918, and 
it proved a boomerang. During the war, knowing the 
German people, I believed only what was ordered by 
German High Command. That, however, was sufficient 
to inspire me with a perfect horror of those who brought 
on and continued a war which has proved the greatest 
calamity ever inflicted on the human race. A corre¬ 
spondent of “The Manchester Guardian” writes from 
Washington: “The Americans are filled with a childish 
hatred of the Germans.” This is not surprising as few 
people have the time to probe for truth, especially when 
truth is extremely unpopular. I hope Mary was gratified 
when Madame Bovard called on the class to “give three 
cheers for Mary Ware’s grandmother.” 


Bordeaux, 

Jan. 2, 1922. 

Dearest Family : 

I missed Nellie terribly during the lonely journey to 
Bordeaux. She wished to accompany me to Geneva, 
which of course I could not permit as it is a journey of 
nearly three hours. I was put into a clean compartment 


210 


A New World 


all alone where I lay down most comfortably, but after 
a while a man entered. In Europe where the cars are 
separated into detached compartments it is impossible 
not to think of the opportunities this affords for robbery 
and even murder. Such things certainly do happen from 
time to time for one reads of them often. I was travel¬ 
ing too at night which undoubtedly facilitates criminal 
attempts. I looked about for a bell, or some other means 
of signalling, but could discover none. I got so 
frightened at last I could think of nothing but of self- 
defense in case the danger appeared imminent. The first 
thing necessary, I thought, would be to assure the 
criminal that I carried no sum of any consequence on my 
person, that I was too old to be trusted with money, 
too old in fact to be traveling alone, but members of my 
family were to meet me in Geneva to take charge of me 
(how quickly does fear make liars of us all!) With 
my eyes fixed steadily on every movement of the criminal 
while these thoughts flashed through my brain, I saw 
the dreaded man take out a large newspaper, spread it on 
the plush seat in front of him quietly and put his feet 
quietly on it. I said to myself: “This man has been 
brought up by good parents to respect public property.” 
With confidence completely restored I fell fast asleep. 
At Geneva my unknown companion called a porter, car¬ 
ried my small luggage himself, inquired where I was 
going, looked at my itinerary, said it was the worst possi¬ 
ble and advised me to give it up and take the sleeper to 
Paris. That, however, was too radical a change at the 
last moment, so I was put in the 9130 train according to 


211 


Through Old Eyes 

program, where I was again able to lie down comfortably. 
At the frontier I asked the Conductor to excuse me from 
getting out for the Customs inspection, believing it would 
be done on the train, but two employees entered, de¬ 
manded my passport and then without another word 
carried off my two valises containing my entire wardrobe. 
I remained outwardly quiet, but my mind was torn by 
conflicting emotions. What would be the fate of my 
little hoard of finery, packed with such tender care and 
now abandoned to the rude hands of those officials! I 
remained in a painful state of uncertainty till I reached 
this city where I was able to assure myself that nothing 
had been touched, the valises not even opened. French 
Customs are models for the rest of the world. At our 
first stopping place beyond the frontier the Conductor 
advised me to leave the train saying I should find an 
excellent waiting room at that station, so out I got and in 
my haste I took an elegant umbrella belonging to a lady 
whom I had welcomed most warmly into my compart¬ 
ment as I was alone. I fear she misinterpreted my 
cordiality and I regret extremely her loss. I found a 
long and commodious sofa in the waiting room on which 
I had no intention of going to sleep, but the Conductor 
had to rouse me when the train was due. It proved to 
be the Express from Milan to Bordeaux, but no one told 
me this and I was still trusting to my untrustworthy 
itinerary, which directed me to take this Express at 
Lyons. When we reached that city I asked a passenger 
if there were more than one station. He said there were 
two. I then asked: ‘‘Is this the one for the Bordeaux 


212 


A New World 


Express?” He said “Yes.” I got out taking my small 
luggage, for there was no porter in sight. I implored 
various persons outside to call one for me, and did so 
myself with such voice as I could command. I was 
terribly afraid the train would leave, carrying my valises, 
I knew not whither, and yet I could find no porter, and 
everybody so busy with their own affairs! I am sure 
the passenger I had questioned understood the whole 
situation for I caught a smile on his face. It was now 
that I needed Nellie. During our whole tour no matter 
what disaster threatened us, she would pay no attention 
to it, but on the contrary would concentrate all her 
thoughts on me, urging me to keep quiet, not to get 
excited, while I was longing for her to take measures 
to avert the approaching catastrophe. This became such 
a fixed habit that had our train plunged into a river she 
would have repeated mechanically: “Aunt Mary, don’t 
get excited!” But Nellie was far away, at a moment 
when those warning words would have been con¬ 
spicuously appropriate. At last, when hope had died 
within me, a porter came running up, calling out “Why, 
Madame, this is the Express for Bordeaux.” I refused 
to believe him against my itinerary, and said; “I will pay 
you well to go to the office and get me reliable informa¬ 
tion.” He was a strong, good-natured man, so off he 
went returning very soon to reassure me. He got me 
and my belongings back in the train, and I had just four¬ 
teen hours in which to compose myself, lying comforta¬ 
bly on the long seat, where I slept a good deal, only 
getting up for dinner. The Lalaurettes were all three at 


213 


Through Old Eyes 

the station to meet me, and are perfectly lovely to me. 
They are here with his old father, his sister and a brother. 

January 3, 1922. 

I had to stop writing for the evening meal. I have 
written with the family all around me and much inter¬ 
rupted by our big talks on every conceivable subject. M. 
Lalaurette was an officer in the heavy artillery during 
the war. I asked him if he had had any experience of 
American troops. Indeed he had! He was with the 
French Army immediately to the left of the Twenty- 
seventh Division of Americans. These had just wrested 
St. Christopher on the Arne from the Germans under 
Von Hutier. St. Christopher was the pivotal point of 
Von Hutier’s command. If only the Americans could 
hold it, the French could advance, but the counter-attacks 
of the Germans were of such terrific violence the French 
could not persuade themselves the Americans would be 
able to hold out. It was in fact an “inferno,” he said. 
The Americans did hold! How proud I was to hear 
this French witness to the cool courage of my countrymen 
under such desperate circumstances. M. Lalaurette went 
on to say that the French soldiers considered the Ameri¬ 
cans as raw troops on this occasion and did not believe 
that they could possibly withstand such storms of shot 
and shell; the French therefore, stood ready to retreat. 
That surely was military glory, unflinching tenacity and 
self-sacrifice in a righteous cause. M. Lalaurette related 
to me again and in more detail, the particulars of that 
awful catastrophe at St. Pierre on the island of Marti- 


214 


A New World 


nique where the entire population of the city, in¬ 
cluding his mother, two brothers and many other rela¬ 
tives, perished. With the pictures of the mother and the 
two brothers hanging on the walls over my head, the 
recital was very thrilling. His remaining brother, his 
sister and a cousin sat near us and joined in the con¬ 
versation, the father too deaf to hear. M. Lalaurette 
related his own narrow escape and that of this brother. 
Their jcollege closed that fateful day because fine ashes 
from the volcano had invaded it. The college stood 
remote from his home, where the ashes were not annoying. 
The two boys decided to go over the mountain to join 
their father on the plantation. The sister was in a con¬ 
vent school in France. But some of their relatives, in¬ 
convenienced by the ashes, arrived, and the boys were so 
interested in their cousins that they gave up the trip. 
Finally, however, they telegraphed their father to send 
horses for them half way, the distance being twenty-five 
rniles, and after renewed wavering and indecision they 
left the doomed city. I asked why more people did not 
leave when the volcano became so threatening. He said 
it had always been regarded as extinct, and for fear of 
an exodus the business men had appealed to the governor 
to quiet the citizens. The governor came with his wife 
and did prevail on the inhabitants to remain; they of 
course perished with the rest. I wanted to know what 
was the nature of the volcanic action which had proved 
so fearfully destructive. He said the volcano generated 
enormous quantities of highly inflammable gas which 
covered the city like a blanket. When this became ignited 


2X5 


Through Old Eyes 

it produced what was computed to be 4,000 degrees of 
heat in which metal, stone, glass and all other substances 
were fused or crumbled into dust, so that nothing re¬ 
mained of this flourishing city of 30,000 inhabitants. 
They must have been killed too quickly to have had time 
to suffer, their bodies reduced to ashes in a few seconds. 
The nearby water of the sea boiled. M. Lalaurette says 
that since the day the news came to the plantation that 
all the inhabitants of St. Pierre had perished, his father 
has been a broken man, but now he loves to help about 
the house and go to market, making himself useful to his 
daughter, who lives with him. It was in May, 1902, 
that the great Catastrophe occurred. 

M. Lalaurette was much interested in what I told him 
of Fiume and Zara. I have to be cautious in what I 
say of militarism as the French are very sensitive on 
that subject. Of course I cannot but believe that the 
statesmen of France are now entirely overruled by the 
military. It does seem singular that nations learn so 
little from past experience. Can they believe that 
Napoleon would have died on St. Helena had his states¬ 
manship been equal to his genius for war? Would the 
Great War have taken place had Germany shown magna¬ 
nimity in victory in 1871? And Italy, after having ex¬ 
cited the sympathies of the world for more than a 
hundred years over the wrongs of her people under an 
alien yoke, now annexes foreign and unwilling popula¬ 
tions. If Cavour were living would they listen to him? 
If Bismarck had counselled moderation and a far-sighted 
statesmanship could he have over-ruled the military? It 


216 


A New World 


was he, in fact, who undertook to suppress the language, 
the literature, the national consciousness of a people of 
forty millions, the Poles. The inhabitants of Alsace- 
Lorraine might have been won over at any time to the 
empire had the priceless boon of self-government been 
bestowed upon them. But unreason rules the world. 
There was a Russian refugee in Pension Moser, 
Lausanne, who hated Lloyd George fanatically because 
he wished the English to resume trade relations with 
Soviet Russia. He would never listen to me, but as a 
parting favor he agreed not to interrupt me for a few 
minutes. I then told him my belief that had the Soviet 
Government been recognized at the very start as the 
“de facto” government of Russia it would not have 
strengthened Bolshevism, but would have had rather the 
contrary effect, for trade carries with it foreign ideas as 
well as foreign goods. What, I asked, had kept the 
Communists so long in authority but the misery and 
privations to which the Russians had been reduced by 
the boycotting of their country, as well as by the mis- 
government of the Soviets. They had not the physical 
strength to rebel. Lenin and Trotsky had come into 
power by giving the land to the peasants, but they had 
antagonized these same peasants by forced contributions 
and demands for all surplus products. Why then did 
not the enemies of Bolshevism guarantee to the peasants 
the possession of the land? A prosperous Russia, freed 
from the burden of armaments, could easily indemnify 
the former landlords for the loss of their estates. Lloyd 
George was the only statesman who sought to restore 


Through Old Eyes 


217 


trade and other normal relations with Russia, but he was 
opposed by the military party of France, and the world 
owes too much to France to disregard the wishes of its 
people. As soon as I mentioned Lloyd George, the game 
was up, and I had to listen to the usual torrent of in¬ 
vective. I do not believe that under any circumstances, 
save during the crisis of a great war, any combination of 
nations has the moral right to boycott another, because 
a whole people cannot be guilty, and the proportion of 
guilty to the innocent is very small, while the suffering 
entailed falls almost exclusively on the innocent. I have 
heard people blame the Russians severely for their 
Tzarist government as they now blame them for their 
Bolshevist rulers, but in the case of a big country like 
Russia it was easy for the Tzars to establish an autocratic 
government by large garrisons from remote parts of the 
empire not in sympathy with the populations upon whom 
they were quartered. It was only when raw recruits, not 
Cossacks, garrisoned St. Petersburg, that the soldiers 
refused to fire on the people in 1917. It was also the 
fixed policy of the old Tzarist government to keep the 
peasants ignorant and helpless. It is pathetic now to read 
of their great desire to have their children educated. In 
the main, no doubt, England, France and America have 
the governments they deserve, especially the Americans 
who have no formidable enemies across their borders. 

I forgot to tell you of a Jap I met at the hotel in 
Athens. Nellie introduced him to me. I said, “I have 
just read of the assassination of your Prime Minister, 
Mr. Hara. Why did they kill him?” This remarkable 


218 


A New World 


Jap answered in all sincerity, “Because we could not get 
rid of him in any other way.” Evidently he belongs 
to that party in Japan which thought that Hara was 
sacrificing the interests of the army. I concluded that 
if I had any more conversation with that man I might 
lose my admiration for the Japanese people. 

Nellie is extremely witty on the subject of my pacifism. 
She tells everybody that I am a pacifist for the army only, 
that my grandson, Bill, is to graduate from Annapolis 
this year, therefore the United States Navy should not 
be touched, only the submarines suppressed, as they 
would be unhealthy for Bill. Her Ned is an officer in the 
land forces, as you know, and at present stationed in 
Coblenz. My retort is obvious. 


Cherbourg, 

Jan. 6, 1922. 

My visit to the Lalaurettes was really a very great 
pleasure to me. There was a family gathering to see 
the old father, his daughter and son off to Martinique on 
the 12th of this month. I feared very much at first that 
I should be an embarrassment in this family reunion, 
but such was the delicacy and politeness of each one 
toward me, that I was made to feel completely at my 
ease. I tried in vain, however, to convince them that a 
war between England and France was unthinkable, that 
England could not be so insane as to desire it, nor would 
a single Crown Colony sanction it. Our views on politi¬ 
cal questions were so radically different that I was forced 
to suppress my true sentiments. On one occasion only I 


219 


Through Old Eyes 

lost self control and exclaimed vehemently: “Had I the 
power I should disarm the whole world with the one 
exception of France. To her I should say: “Make a 
soldier of every Frenchman, turn your country into an 
armed camp, if such is your desire, for after having 
saved the world from German domination no one will 
gainsay your right to do so. Only one condition would 
be imposed; you should not be allowed to invade the 
territories of your neighbors. I feel sure, however, when 
your peasants found out that they alone were bearing the 
burdens of militarism they would quickly rise and make 
an end of it.” I saw immediately after uttering these 
words (spoken impetuously too) that I had gone too far 
and might well have given serious offense, so next morn¬ 
ing I brought out my letters acknowledging the receipt of 
the various sums coming from the sale of “The Old 
World Through Old Eyes,” and from my souvenirs of 
travel. They were written me by the French Red Cross 
and the Society to Aid Blind French Soldiers, also one 
letter from the Mayor of Lille thanking me for a con¬ 
tribution to the destitute children of that city. I had not 
shown these letters before in Europe. I was keeping 
them for the children. Every member of the family, 
down to Simone, read them with eager interest and then 
M. Lalaurette turned to me and said, “You have earned 
the right to criticize this country and its government as 
freely as you like. You have proved your devotion by 
deeds.” And then what I had done was so extolled, so 
magnified, that I was overwhelmed. I had always felt 
that the sums I had been able to send were so pitifully 


220 


A New World 


small in comparison to the gigantic need, and also com¬ 
pared to the gifts of the wealthy in our Northern cities, 
that I had no illusions as to their importance. Of course 
after this generous invitation to criticize, I had no further 
desire to do so. I felt instinctively it would have been 
out of place. I had indeed lost the right to criticize. All 
the sums I had been able to send did not amount entirely 
to $3,000. 


S. S. Kroonland, 

Jan. 12, 19 22. 

Dearest Family : 

There are so few passengers on this ship that Milton’s 
words arise in my mind: “The hungry sheep look up 
and are not fed.” There are indeed too few passengers 
to fee this horde of servants. I take both luncheon and 
dinner in the dining room in spite of the rough weather. 
I have a waiter all to myself, and I should feel quite a 
pride in the possession if we had any language in com¬ 
mon, but he is a Flemish Belgian, who speaks a smatter¬ 
ing of badly pronounced French and still less English. 
We cannot therefore converse. When I forget my 
spectacles he reads the menu to me. Today he stumbled 
on a word which sounded like the Italian for goat; I 
suggested capon, “No,” he said, “Not that” “Is it goat?” 
I asked. He thought it was. “Well, if it’s goat, don’t 
bring it to me. It’s too stormy for gastronomic experi¬ 
ments.” It proved after all to be fowl. When I used 
to read the “Old Bible” more assiduously than time 
permits me now, I longed to test the “savoury meat” 


221 


Through Old Eyes 

made of kid (it played a tragic role in Esau’s life), but 
whenever the occasion presented itself during my travels 
it seemed inopportune, and now I have a deep, sentimental 
regard for goats which would preclude any desire to eat 
them under any circumstances. When I was last in the 
Swiss Mountains I saw the goats coming in from pasture. 
The village children ran out eagerly to meet them and 
with arms about their necks caressed them lovingly. Of 
course each child expected a cup of warm, sweet milk for 
its supper, but the attachment between the child and the 
animal touched me deeply. 

There is a charming American girl on board, Miss 
Bissell, who would be a delightful companion were she 
not seasick most of the time. She knows Ned Searby, 
which is naturally a bond of sympathy, and was much 
amused at the account I gave her of how the news of the 
Armistice was received at Nellie’s home in Windsor. 
Ned had just graduated at West Point and came down 
wearing his new uniform, looking very proud and happy. 
Then came the astounding news of the Armistice which 
threw him into a rage, ending in black despair. He went 
out to buy a paper but the newsboy refused to take his 
money, “No, no, you risked your life fighting for us; 
we cannot take money from the like of you.” Then, 
during a drive they took through the streets, he was 
acclaimed everywhere as a hero. So he shut himself up 
in the house, refusing the kindly-meant ministrations of 
mother and sister. What could women know of the 
feelings of a soldier, the thrill of the call to battle? 
Nothing! Into this unmitigated gloom came a dispatch 


222 


A New World 


from Washington. He was to be sent to France to visit 
the battle fields, since which time he has been at Coblenz, 
then at Fontainebleau, and now again at Coblenz. He 
wrote his mother a short time ago that he would be very 
happy at Coblenz if Aunt Mary didn’t come and get them 
all sent back to America. As a piece of fine irony this 
is inimitable. It expresses my sentiments too, for why 
should American soldiers be living at the expense of the 
hard driven proletariat of Germany? Cannot America 
provide for her small army whether at home or abroad? 
Had I the faintest shadow of influence I should certainly 
use it to rid those German workers, their wives and 
children and the peasants, of the incubus of debt caused 
by our army of occupation. I should think the upkeep 
of all those armies of English, French, Belgian and 
American could pay the German debt. 

The bell boy has been quite useful to me, bringing my 
things up from the stateroom. He says he is 16 years 
old. One day I sent him back to my room to bring me 
my spectacles. I told him they were in a small black 
case on the foot of the sofa. He did not return. After 
some time the steward came to ask what I wanted. “My 
spectacles.” He said the bell boy had never heard that 
word before in his life, so it seems this sixteen year old 
boy went to my room expecting to find something strange 
and startling. Had I never heard the word “spectacles,” 
no doubt it would have startled me considerably, but as 
the black case lay on the foot of the sofa, as I said, 
it was odd he never thought of bringing it to me. I 
therefore made up my mind to give the youth some use- 


223 


Through Old Eyes 

ful hints for his future guidance in life. So seizing my 
opportunity I said to him: “You undertook to execute a 
commission for me without understanding in the slightest 
degree its purport. If you ever expect to emerge from 
the abysmal ignorance in which you are at present en¬ 
gulfed, you must not be afraid to ask such questions as 
are necessary to inform yourself. Shyness under such 
circumstances is a crime against reason.” As I could 
hardly have been more tactful, I have great hopes of 
that boy, who took no offense at my well meant advice. 

400 W. 160th St. 

New York City, N. Y. 

Jan. 17, 1922. 

Dearest Family: 

I reached this city yesterday, twenty-four hours ahead 
of schedule time. Dick and Letitia Rogers barely got to 
the wharf in time to meet me. Martha Battle was to 
have sent her car, but heard too late of the ship’s arrival 
to be able to do so. 

Well Dick has bought that apple and peach orchard in 
Virginia. It is twelve miles from Charlottesville. He is 
giving up a highly-paid profession to embark on a 
perfectly new and untried business. I feel deeply anxious 
about the outcome, and yet I do not regret the move. 
They are both so tired of city life, and long for the 
freedom of the country. The country never gave me 
freedom, but they are differently situated and are as 
enthusiastic over the future as though twenty years had 
been lifted from their age. They simply rave over the 
Virginians. One would think, to hear these two 


224 A New World Through Old Eyes 

Mississippians talk, that they were long absent exiles 
returning to their native shores. They say there is some¬ 
thing marvelously exhilarating in the air down there, 
and they are extraordinarily proud of all their new 
acquisitions, of the cow particularly, which, with a couple 
of horses, some pigs and some chickens were thrown in 
gratis along with the place! Pure gain! And each of 
these animals is so interesting, so truly remarkable of its 
kind. Laura went down with Dick, and remained some 
days after his return as a guest of the Heath Dabneys. 
I am so charmed that she and Lily have met at last. They 
are now fast friends, of course. Laura says little Alice 
Dabney is a perfect marvel, she edits a magazine, writes 
all the articles, both prose and poetry, together with a 
comic column, furnishing also the illustrations, and this 
magazine she typewrites. 

Mrs. Howard and Emily have been to see me. They 
invite me to come to California for another automobile 
tour through the state, and they are to have a brand-new 
car. It would be lovely! But I belong to my grand¬ 
children this summer. 


Reminiscences of my Life 


225 




\ 

















H 







PREFACE 

These somewhat disjointed Reminiscences from my 
long life were begun in Sofia at the home of those good 
people, Graham and Aubrey Kemper. They were con¬ 
tinued in Constantinople and in other cities of the Near 
East, then put aside to be resumed and hastily finished 
on this ship, “The Kroonland,” which is bearing me 
back to America. They were written primarily for my 
grandchildren that they might not altogether forget their 
old grandmother. To die and be forgotten is the fate 
of all humanity. “Yet e’en from the tomb the voice of 
Nature cries!” and we long to live on for a while in the 
memory of those we love. To this end have I penned 
these pages, hoping that truth, however humble, is not 
wholly without value and that my grandchildren may 
find, perchance, in these records something of guidance 
or of encouragement. 


227 












REMINISCENCES 

When I was old enough to become conscious of my 
surroundings I saw myself one of a large family of 
brothers and sisters, all of good normal intelligence and 
of really high character. I was perhaps the most stupid. 
It is certain that I could never learn arithmetic or spell¬ 
ing. My father for a few months, or perhaps it was 
only weeks, employed my oldest brother to teach us 
younger children. He was not what one would call 
heaven-born or gifted for the task. He would put ques¬ 
tions in mental arithmetic to me: “If I pay ten cents 
for a pound of nails what must I pay for ten pounds?” 
Of course I was utterly unable to give any satisfactory 
guess, or any answer whatever. Then he would take 
me up and set me on a high narrow press called Brook’s 
Press because a carpenter of that name had hammered 
it together and painted it a dark red. It was very wobbly 
and I terribly afraid, but it did not help me in mental 
arithmetic. One afternoon stands out in my memory. 
It had rained and the sun had burst out. Perhaps it was 
springtime I had been dismissed from the schoolroom 
after having been duly punished for my stupidity. I had 
never before thought of nature, whether it was beautiful 


229 


230 


A New World 


or not, but suffering had quickened to some extent my 
intelligence. As I walked in the garden I exclaimed to 
myself; “How beautiful the world would be without 
arithmetic.” Those glittering rain drops still remain 
fresh in my memory. In those days there were no 
Public Schools. When a man died and left a helpless 
widow and children, the neighbors said: “Let her open 
a school/’ If a man had failed in all else they said like¬ 
wise “Let him open a school.” Of course there was no 
question of grading. We all recited in the village school¬ 
room. 

At the closing hour all the children stood up, big and 
little, for a spelling competition. I of course was at the 
foot with another unfortunate called Babe. As sympa¬ 
thetic friends could whisper to us we were at length put 
in a class to ourselves, examples in the Spartan sense, and 
there we would stand before all the others, helpless, 
abject, rolling our eyes round to the four corners of the 
room, appealing mutely for help where none could be 
had. One day as I was debating whether to say “e” or 
“i” I caught my sister Nannie’s glance and she put her 
finger over her eye. I answered wrong as usual, and on 
coming out of school my sisters called out, “You goose, 
didn’t you see Nannie put her finger to her eye?” “Yes, 
I did, but I thought she got a gnat in it.” 

My mother gave us a great deal of religious instruction. 
We were sent to Sunday School in the morning, and in 
the afternoon she held long services at home. She read 
all the fearful denunciations for sin she could find from 
beginning to end of the Bible, so that when I heard the 


231 


Through Old Eyes 

wind rattling the windows at night I thought the Devil 
had come to take me off, and suffered great mental 
anguish. We were brought up in terrible fear of Satan, 
into whose hands God in His wrath seemed to wish to 
deliver us. Yet my mother taught us that whatever we 
desired ardently, if it were good for us, we could obtain 
by earnest prayer. Now we had dreadful storms in 
Mississippi. During one of these our stable was blown 
down and the servants came running into the house to 
tell us the terrible news, for our mule was in the stable. 
There was great consternation and grief in the entire 
household, but I determined to save our mule by divine 
intervention. I ran to my room, shut the door, and 
throwing myself on my knees prayed with all my heart 
and soul for our good mule. I told God how good and 
faithful he was and sobbed out, “Save our good mule, 
Save our good mule, this once,” but the mule died after 
much suffering. I concluded then that it was useless to 
pray for animals, certainly not for mules. Now we 
children were told by someone that everyone had a verse 
in the thirty-first chapter of Proverbs. My birthday, as 
set down in the family Bible, was on the 27th, but the 
26th verse pleased me greatly. “She openeth her mouth 
with wisdom, and on her tongue is the law of kindness.” 
My mother, too, had told me that I was born between 
the 26th and the 27th, so I chose that verse, though I 
really had no right to it. I concluded then to pray for 
wisdom and goodness, which I did every night after the, 
“Now I lay me down to sleep” had been disposed of. I 
reasoned that as nothing could be better for people than 


232 


A New World 


wisdom and goodness, God would surely grant the 
request. But this prayer, too, has remained unanswered, 
and my life has been full of regrets for things done which 
more wisdom and goodness would have averted. I sup¬ 
pose it is our duty to make ourselves wise and good and 
not expect the Lord to intervene, just as we should not 
wish our children to be eternally begging us for things 
which they should bestir themselves to accomplish by 
their own endeavors. My father was a lawyer and as he 
had been elected more than once Probate Judge, was 
called Judge Dabney. He had had a college education 
and loved literature far more than law. He was singularly 
devoid of shrewdness so necessary to a lawyer’s success. 
He lost therefore what fortune he had inherited and 
most of my mother’s. He had a passion for trying ex¬ 
periments, which was the subject of many a joke from 
my mother, for none of his experiments succeeded, but 
she had a profound respect for his literary attainments, 
and indeed few fathers retained to an equal degree the 
reverential attachment of their children. There were 
never any quarrels in our household. We had nothing 
to inherit after the slaves were set free, and we were 
always willing to help each other. My mother was a very 
busy woman, though we had a number of household 
slaves. There were so many children, nine of us. Then 
the servants and their children had to be provided for. 
When the day’s work was over she would sit in the 
twilight with her knitting. Unfortunately for her peace 
of mind she attached too much importance to the dif¬ 
ferences between the Christian Churches. She was 


233 


Through Old Eyes 

ever conscious that straight and narrow was the way that 
led to salvation. She was ever fearful that she might 
have wandered into that broader way with its wide open 
portals leading to destruction. She longed for security. 
In Virginia she had been brought up in the Episcopal 
Church but when she came to Mississippi there was no 
such church in the little town of Raymond where my 
father settled, nor was there any prospect of one. She 
therefore joined the Methodist, but a few years later her 
Baptist friends persuaded her to come over to them. My 
father thought this change unnecessary, but in the case 
of religious exaltation obstacles only strengthen the will 
to overcome them. I believe that I was the only member 
of our family who accompanied my mother to the little 
stream near Raymond where the Baptists practised the 
primitive rite of immersion and I did so surreptitiously. 
I crept up on the little seat behind the buggy and made 
the trip, but I remember nothing else that occurred, as 
I was very young. Much later an Episcopal Church was 
established in Raymond and we frequently had the 
pleasure of entertaining our good old Bishop Green, one 
of the holiest and most beautiful old men I have ever 
seen. It is related of this saintly man, I do not know 
on what authority, that he was once in a town where 
Patti was singing. A ticket was sent to the Bishop, but 
because it was during Lent, he did not go to hear her. 
As Patti was leaving the town, her carriage met that in 
which sat the Bishop. He stopped and got out to make 
his excuses to the great singer. She on seeing that beauti¬ 
ful, saintly face and hearing that wonderful, musical 


234 


A New World 


voice, sprang out of her carriage and begged his benedic¬ 
tion, kneeling before him. After my marriage my father 
moved to Crystal Springs where my oldest brother 
resided. Here my mother fell under the influence of the 
Presbyterians. I received one day at my home in Jackson 
a hasty summons to Crystal Springs. There I found my 
father and my eldest sister Nannie much agitated. My 
mother wished to join the Presbyterians, though an 
Episcopal church was in the town, also a Methodist and 
a Baptist. They therefore thought it was not only un¬ 
reasonable but a little mortifying for the family. I took 
a different view. If it were necessary to my mother’s 
peace of mind, as it surely was, for she had taken to 
her bed, ill, was it not a small sacrifice for so priceless a 
boon! I persuaded them to my way of thinking and we 
sent for the Presbyterian minister, a most worthy man in 
spite of his peculiar name—Rowdybush. Mr. Rowdy- 
bush acted with wonderful tact. He offered my mother 
every privilege of his church without the formality of 
joining it, so I returned to husband and children leaving 
peace behind me. Later on some person, whose intentions 
I considered at least doubtful, sent my mother a periodical 
depicting the labors and hopes of the Reformed Episco¬ 
palians. This periodical, coming regularly to her address, 
was carefully read and digested till at last these would-be 
reformers took on the complexion of the early Apostles. 
She imagined them going from place to place with staff 
and sandals and in humble raiment intent only on their 
holy mission. It was the desire to be near this new 
church which led her to influence my father to take her 


235 


Through Old Eyes 

to California with me. I knew nothing of all this, but in 
Santa Rosa, California, she spoke freely of her intentions 
to my sister Martha. This sister was a woman of rare 
intelligence. She went down to San Francisco and had 
an interview with the Reformed pastor. She wrote an 
account of it in which, among other things, she mentioned 
casually “Mr. X made a very favorable impression on 
me. He is very gentlemanly, quite interesting and very 
well dressed.” We heard no more of the Reformed 
clergyman, and so at last, after many wanderings, my 
mother found the peace she had sought so ardently. She 
had followed her conscience whither it had led her, and 
was never swayed by worldly considerations. 

When I was still a small child my mother sent me, 
for reasons of health, to the country for some weeks to 
a friend of hers, Mrs. Summers, a cousin of my uncle’s 
wife. We all called her Cousin Maria Jane, and a very 
good woman she was. I have never forgotten the first 
dinner in that plantation home where I was asked what 
part of the chicken I preferred. Never before had I 
been treated with such distinction. I answered proudly, 
“I will take the leg.” I thought it was the biggest piece. 
My visit there was one of pure delight. There were 
many children, and I was permitted to play and roam 
over the big garden and nearby wood the whole day with 
my young companions. In the twilight we beat the 
shrubbery, that is the older children did so, we others 
picked up the poor little birds that had taken refuge there, 
and then hastening to the big nursery we picked and 
stuffed them with buttered bread crumbs and hung them 


236 


A New World 


on strings in front of the great open fire-place. They 
were very small, the poor little birds, but we ate them 
ravenously though we had all the supper we could pos¬ 
sibly swallow. The whole process of capturing, prepar¬ 
ing, cooking and devouring them was thrilling. I had 
never been in such a children’s Paradise before, and I 
must add that the superb health I enjoyed contributed 
immensely to my happiness. In Raymond during the cold 
months I suffered greatly from headaches and dyspepsia. 
There were in those days no ships bringing fruit to our 
shores, no railways distributing their precious cargoes 
throughout the land, so we only enjoyed an abundance of 
fruit in summer from our orchards. When Cousin 
Maria Jane took me home I was at first extremely un¬ 
happy. I had led a life of such freedom on the planta¬ 
tion, almost like a little savage, that the return to restraint 
and monotony was very painful. I remember distinctly 
that I was ashamed of the dinner my mother offered 
Cousin Maria Jane, and particularly ashamed that cab¬ 
bage formed a part of it. I cannot remember anything 
about my brothers or sisters at this home coming. Cousin 
Maria Jane left that afternoon and when supper was 
over I sat in a low chair by the fire in my mother’s room. 
She and my father were silently occupied at the table 
where the lamp burned. I listened to the far off barking 
of the village dogs and thought that my little world was 
too sad and dreary for words. That picture of utter 
misery is still clear in my mind associated with the bark¬ 
ing of village dogs. 

Our little town was very religious. We had frequent 


237 


Through Old Eyes 

protracted meetings in our churches. One day, during 
one of these revivals, a lady called to see my mother 
while I was undergoing punishment for some forgotten 
offense by being tied to the bed post. I felt deeply the 
humilitation and stood as close to the bed as possible to 
hide the cord while listening to the conversation. The 
lady related to my mother that the evening before her 
son had attended the revival services and had wanted 
very much to obey the call to come to the mourners’ 
bench and get religion, but could not do so because 
he didn’t have a pocket handkerchief. This recital 
threw me into a state of mental consternation. I 
felt that here was a boy much older and bigger than I, a 
really big boy, who couldn’t get religion and save his 
soul from those terrible tortures, which awaited us all 
in the hereafter, because he did not have a pocket 
handkerchief. I do not remember ever to have been 
trusted with a pocket handkerchief when I was a small 
child. I had however an apron upon which I could 
always weep freely, but that poor boy couldn’t weep on 
his apron, because he did not have any. If I had not 
been so stupid I might have thought that he could go 
to services next day with a handkerchief in each of his 
pockets, but we all had the feeling that when the “call” 
came you must respond. The case of this boy remained 
for a long time a tragedy in my memory. My religious 
ideals were so narrowly puritanical, it was only gradually 
and after many years that a higher conception of the 
relations between the Creator and His earthly children 
formed itself in my mind. 


238 


A New World 


Raymond, where I was born and brought up, was a 
very small town, scarcely more than five hundred whites. 
My sister Letitia once said of it that its only immigrants 
were the babies and its only emigrants the dead, but this 
was hardly correct inasmuch as its young men went away 
in search of fortune. 

I do not remember that my parents ever gave any 
evening parties except at Christmas time. Then they 
invited their friends to partake of eggnog and delicious 
home-made cake, before the introduction of baking 
powders. There were always two bowls, one for those 
who liked a goodly portion of liquor, though they were 
pretty silent about it, and one for those who explained 
at length that they could not possibly take theirs strong. 
All this caused much lively banter and merriment. Then 
the company would adjourn to our little parlor where they 
played on the piano and sang. My mother would call 
for different pieces, which caused in me both astonish¬ 
ment and admiration, for I could not possibly distinguish 
one tune from another. I would say to myself, “How 
wonderful my mother is! How can she know that the 
pieces she is calling for have not already been played? 
She is asking for the ‘Battle of Prague/ we have already 
had a very noisy piece, perhaps that was the ‘Battle of 
Prague.’ ” After the company were all gone my father 
and mother would linger for awhile over the parlor fire 
and discuss the evening. My father would begin: “I 
believe, old Lady (he always called her old Lady), our 
parties are the pleasantest given in the town. I think 
indeed that this is admitted by all our friends. How they 


239 


Through Old Eyes 

praised our eggnog and the good plum cake tonight! 
They feel at home in our house. They laugh and joke 
without restraint, no one is bored for a moment.” Then 
my mother: “Yes, I have known all that a long time. 
When we go out to parties, how stiff and formal they 
are! I am sure that we Virginians are the only people 
who know how to make good eggnog. Everybody 
acknowledges that, etc.” I would listen to this, my heart 
swelling with pride within me, and I would say to myself, 
“In all this great big town there are no such parties like 
those given by my parents,” and I would became in¬ 
ordinately vainglorious. 

My father was extremely fond of music and had all 
his daughters taught by a professor. He hoped that 
among us all some latent talent would be developed, but 
my sisters seemed to have little more taste for music than 
I. I had, however, a characteristic so strongly marked 
that it appeared in my early childhood and will follow me 
to my grave. I could never endure to have any task 
hanging over me. I had to get it done, to get it off my 
mind; then only I felt free. My father told me I must 
practice an hour every day. This duty was highly dis¬ 
tasteful, as I had no ear for music, consequently I 
bestirred myself immediately after breakfast to get it off 
my hands. Then I could follow lightheartedly for the 
rest of the day my own inclinations. At noon when my 
father returned from his office he always asked each of 
us if we had practiced. I could always answer “Yes, 
Sir.” I must say in excuse for my elder sisters, for I was 
the fourth daughter, that their time was worth far more 


I 


240 


A New World 


than mine. Nannie, the eldest, was fond of sewing. 
Elizabeth the second was even as a child one of the most 
useful persons I have ever seen. Gradually my mother 
put the housekeeping and much of the care of the other 
children on her, though she was still very young. She 
was a second mother to us all. She developed such skill 
in cutting and fitting garments that my aunt would send 
for her to come to the plantation to show her how to cut 
and fit her children’s clothes. Indeed in every respect, in 
efficiency, in intelligence and in character she was far 
above the average. Her time was therefore never wasted 
and the stupid piano lessons were neglected for more 
pressing duties. My third sister Martha had really re¬ 
markable literary gifts. I have never heard Shakespeare 
or the Bible read as she could read them; no contortions 
of the body, or of the face like so-called elocutionists, 
but with such intimate appreciation of the meaning and 
with such simplicity of manner that she could make the 
dullest understand the noblest conceptions of Shake¬ 
speare and thrill them with the lofty eloquence of the 
Prophets. She had studied and found out every remarka¬ 
ble passage in the Works of Shakespeare and I often sat 
and listened to her reading in silent wonder and admira¬ 
tion. I am convinced she would have made a celebrated 
actress, but in our family and at that time no such 
thought ever arose in our minds. We children had never 
seen a theater or acting till long after we were grown. 
As for me I possessed neither practical usefulness in the 
house nor the slighest literary ability. What I learned I 
learned painfully, with much labor, and only through 


241 


Through Old Eyes 

a certain tenacity of purpose. I, therefore, having noth¬ 
ing else on my mind, hastened to get through with my 
hour at the piano. I learned the pieces the Professor 
taught me, but I could not learn without his aid. I saw 
that he sometimes corrected a note, I knew that I was 
perfectly incapable of doing this, so with confidence 
undermined, I was afraid of undertaking any new piece 
of music without help. I was, however, the only one of 
the daughters who played, and my father took great 
pleasure in hearing me. 

When I was fourteen and a half years old two sisters 
from Jackson paid a long visit to Raymond. We became 
inseparable companions during this time and they 
persuaded me to urge my parents to send me to a board¬ 
ing school in Jackson, where they were to be day pupils 
that autumn. I was too young to recognize the impossi¬ 
ble in anything that I desired very much. My mother too 
pleaded for me and my father recalled to mind that there 
was a Virginia family in Jackson who always sustained 
him at election time. They lived very near the boarding 
school, so he rode over to that city one day and made 
arrangements to board me with them for $8.00 a month. 
Three of my cousins were entered in this same boarding 
school. The eldest, Susan Dabney, afterwards Mrs. 
Lyell Smedes, was a parlor boarder. My eldest brother 
Fred took me to Jackson and gave me $5.00 of his earn¬ 
ings. I adored this brother. He was so handsome and 
big and strong, and his heart and soul and mind were all 
built on a big scale. I put this precious five dollar gold 
piece away carefully. I found the lady of the house 


242 


A New World 


where I was to live an invalid. She was in bed all the 
time I was there and turned over the housekeeping and 
her children to an unmarried sister of uncertain age. In 
a short time after I became an inmate of the household 
this sister manifested great hostility to me. This made 
me very miserable as I was completely in her power. I 
asked her if I had offended her in any way and begged 
forgiveness if I had done so. I never knew the cause of 
this hostility till some years afterwards. It seems she 
was very much in love with a young man, her junior by 
some years. He in his turn was much in love with my 
cousin Susan Dabney. When this young man learned 
that I was Susan’s cousin he was very polite to me. This 
politeness was misinterpreted by the sister of my hostess, 
who quickly began to regard me as a possible rival, and 
from that moment on she made my stay in the house a 
torture to me. One day at the school the wife of the 
principal, Mrs. Ozanne, took me aside and said, “You 
have been looking so unhappy lately that I wish to know 
the reason.” I broke down in a flood of tears as I told 
her how cruelly I was treated. She had my things moved 
over to the school house the same day and was one of 
the kindest friends I ever had. I had naturally expected 
that the two sisters who had visited Raymond would have 
greeted my arrival at the school with cordiality. They 
were indeed the cause of my being there, but they were 
cold and constrained in their manner. I was too un¬ 
sophisticated to understand the cause. The family in 
which I was living did not move in the same social circle. 
Their enigmatical and apparently heartless conduct to- 


243 


Through Old Eyes 

gether with the unhappy life I was leading in my 
Jackson home made me a real object of pity. I worked 
very hard too without making progress for I had not the 
slightest preparation for the senior class in the school, 
except that I could read. I did not know even the rudi¬ 
ments of grammar or arithmetic. There were so many 
to go to school in our house in Raymond that most of the 
time my mother undertook to teach me herself. I used 
to follow her around in the mornings as she attended to 
her various duties begging her to hear my lessons, im¬ 
pelled by that ever-pressing necessity to get unpleasant 
duties off my mind. 

That winter there came to Jackson a phrenologist who 
created a great sensation among us school girls. We 
heard from those who had visited him of the wonderful 
characters and intellectual attributes he had so freely 
endowed them with and we longed to possess those 
marvelous credentials to show our families and friends. 
Each girl who went to the wise man came back enchanted, 
till a perfect frenzy seized us to put our heads under the 
hands of the magician. I took out my five dollars, for 
that was the price, considering that I could not possibly 
spend it to better advantage, and betook myself to him. 
I was delighted to hear all the nice things he said about 
me as he passed his hands over my silly head, dictating 
to his Secretary. I handed over my gold piece and came 
away with my treasure. But when I opened it in my 
room to re-assure myself of all the flattering statements 
I was led to expect in it, to my horror I found that 
throughout the document I was given the masculine 


244 


A New World 


gender, “This young man has a highly developed, etc. 
This man young man has such and such a bump of so 
and so.” Now the bump of sensitiveness at fifteen is 
perhaps more highly developed than any other in a girl, 
and I was so profoundly mortified that I dared not show 
the document to my friends or family. I regretted too 
late my five dollars thrown away on those two impostors, 
who took my money and then treated me so ignomini- 
ously. My good friend Mrs. Ozanne asked me to teach 
her little children an hour a day, but at fifteen I had not 
the slightest idea of how to teach, and I can truthfully 
say they learned nothing, yet that was the price paid for 
my board, that and the hire of a slave girl not quite my 
age. Long afterwards when I undertook to teach my 
own children I was singularly successful. I put a tiny 
piece of candy on each letter that was called correctly. 
This made the alphabet highly attractive and exciting 
and I was begged for frequent lessons. The syllables 
were treated in the same way and reading followed 
rapidly. 

At this boarding-school I practiced six hours every 
day. I got up at four in the morning and went to the 
cold music room where my fingers were so stiff I could 
hardly move them over the keys. Then I practiced two 
hours more in the afternoon. I wonder now how Mr. and 
Mrs. Ozanne stood being waked up at four in the morn¬ 
ing, for their room adjoined the music room. I should 
never have been permitted to devote so many hours to 
the piano, to the neglect of everything else. My health 
was ruined by it for some time, and it absorbed all my 


245 


Through Old Eyes 

strength and energy. It was perfect folly too, as my 
music teacher told me long afterwards. He said two 
hours daily would have been better. I should have spent 
those wasted hours in making good my want of prepara¬ 
tion for the senior class. I remained in that school for 
two years. Then after one year at home my sister 
Martha and I applied for and received a position in a 
girls’ boarding-school in Claiborne County, Mississippi, 
she to teach the primary class and I to give lessons on the 
piano. Of course I was unfitted for such a task. I was 
not eighteen till the very end of that year i860, and even 
had I been much older I had no natural aptitude for 
music, no ear for it whatever. I believe my sister became 
a very efficient teacher, but I had no such brilliant record 
ahead of me. It seems incredible to me now when I look 
back on that episode in my life. The one thing which 
consoled me and still consoles me is that I never received 
a penny for the winter I taught in that school. It is true 
I had board and lodging which I hardly think my services 
were worth. The most painful feature about the busi¬ 
ness was this: after all terms had been settled by letter 
(my sister wrote a beautiful letter and I left the corre¬ 
spondence to her), there came at the last moment a notice 
that I should be required to teach one young lady on the 
guitar. Now after years of study and all that painful 
practicing I could not tell when a piano was out of tune. 
What was I to do then with an instrument that required 
to be tuned every time it was used, an eternal winding 
up or down of its strings, all mysteries to me ? My sister 
Elizabeth had an admirer who would often come to be- 


246 


A New World 


guile the moonlit summer evenings in our garden with 
simple melodies on his guitar. He had been captain dur¬ 
ing the Mexican war, had commanded the Raymond 
Fencibles. The ladies of the county were so proud of 
their Mississippi heroes that on their victorious return 
to their homes they presented them with a magnificent 
banner of which the captain was the custodian. When 
he heard that I was to give lessons on the guitar he came 
forward with his own and presented it to me. He offered 
also to teach me as well as he could. I believe there was 
some pretense of my taking lessons from him, but the 
whole thing was such a farce that I was very miserable 
and lost all the joy I had felt in what had at first appeared 
a delightful adventure. The young lady who was ex¬ 
pecting singing and guitar lessons from me haunted my 
imagination and I would have declared outright that I 
could not undertake it. But my father, who always be¬ 
lieved that his children could do anything, persuaded me, 
as did all the others, that of course it would all be right. 
I imagined too that I had not been treated with entire 
justice in having those guitar lessons sprung on me at the 
last moment. In excuse for my father I must say he 
loved to hear me play on the piano, for we had very little 
music or musical talent in our village. When my sister 
and I arrived at the school I was much pleased with the 
appearance of things. There were so many big beech 
trees, also magnolias and a charming little stream in which 
I determined to wade where it wandered through the 
wood. The night before the first music lesson was to 
take place, I said to my sister: “Suppose I try to tune 


247 


Through Old Eyes 

that guitar now, I have plenty of time to do it in.” She, 
trusting implicitly to my superior knowledge, assented. I 
then wound those strings up and I unwound them and I 
twanged on them till I saw there was no use in any 
further efforts on my part. But in the “dead waste and 
middle of the night” I was awakened by the sound of 
exploding strings. No signal guns booming their tidings 
of shipwreck over the sea could have sounded more dis¬ 
mal to my ear. All my strings broke at intervals. I saw 
I should have tuned them all down instead of up. All 
my hopes and confidence exploded with them and I de¬ 
termined that come what might under no circumstances 
would I ever again attempt to tune that intractable instru¬ 
ment. When next day the young lady appeared she was 
about my age, very gentle and very amiable. I said: 
“You will have to tune the guitar. You will find strings 
in the case.” Then while I busied myself about the room 
she put the instrument in perfect tune, I presume, I took 
up her book of songs and asked which she liked best. She 
preferred “Mary of Argile.” “Mary of Argile” suited me 
perfectly. I had never heard it before which was for¬ 
tunate for me, for I was destined to hear it all that winter. 
After this had been sung and the young lady appropriately 
complimented I asked for another of her favorites, but 
I cannot remember the name of any other of them. 
They all became my favorites, but I have a poor memory 
for names. When the lesson was over this amiable and 
charming girl left me apparently perfectly satisfied. She 
certainly lifted a heavy weight from my overburdened 
conscience. During the course of the winter she even 


248 


A New World 


took new songs into her repertoire, I paying the while 
such appreciative, flattering and undivided attention to 
the performance that she could not but feel grateful, I 
hoped. If she ever complained of her teacher I never 
heard of it. I believe indeed she was too amiable to do 
so. In the new year 1861 one of the Board of Trustees 
wrote us that as the school had fallen far short of the 
attendance expected, and as there were too many teachers 
for the number of pupils, some of them had to be dis¬ 
missed. As we were the youngest it was thought proper 
for us to go. The gentleman concluded his letter by say¬ 
ing that his daughter had shed tears on hearing that she 
was to lose her music-teacher, whom she loved very much. 
She was my most advanced piano pupil and a very dear 
girl. My sister and I, instead of taking the four hundred 
dollars in gold offered us by the Board of Trustees, re^ 
ferred the matter to our father, who wrote that as the 
contract called for the whole school year it was bad faith 
to dismiss us sooner. He would therefore appeal to the 
courts. This was a legal decision, but hardly a wise, or 
even a just one. The war followed immediately and I 
have ever since had the satisfaction of knowing that I 
was not paid for what I could not have earned. My 
sister should have had her two hundred dollars and no 
more, I think, for the Trustees were perfectly right in 
what they wrote us. We returned then to our home in 
Raymond. The Secession movement which had begun 
before we left the boarding-school went on unchecked 
and soon the country was engulfed in a fratricidal war. 
Perhaps wars will never cease till the means for extermin- 


249 


Through Old Eyes 

ating the human race shall have attained such monstrous 
proportions that no people will be willing to submit to 
such inglorious and wholesale destruction, nor will wars 
long continue to satisfy the pugnacious instincts of man¬ 
kind. My father and uncle were old line Whigs. They 
were against Secession and bitterly opposed to the leaders 
who advised it. They did all in their power to combat 
it, but young and fiery spirits were for it, and of course 
such politicians as hoped to benefit by the breaking up 
of old parties and of national ties. I was always, even 
as a small child, very fond of hearing my father and 
uncle discuss political questions, and would pull my chair 
close to theirs in our little parlor and listen with awe to 
what I considered to be words of purest wisdom. Then, 
all aglow with pride and enthusiasm, I would exclaim to 
myself: “Oh that the world could hear this! And learn 
what wonderful men my father and uncle are! Then they 
would be made president and vice-president, and our coun¬ 
try would be the greatest and best-governed country on 
earth! And it would all be owing to the wisdom of my 
father and of my uncle!” 

When I was still young enough to go barefoot in sum¬ 
mer a young man was sent down from Virginia to 
Mississippi to cure him of the drink habit. It was an ill- 
advised move and his drunkenness killed him, but he 
exercised an influence over my life for many years. He 
saw me often with a book in my hand and easily per¬ 
suaded me to promise him to read no fiction till I had 
finished with my school education. We had no public 


250 


A New World 


libraries where books could be had. They were costly 
and difficult to obtain. I think the promise was detrimen¬ 
tal to my mental development. I was continually going 
around asking people, “Is this a work of fiction?” Thus 
calling forth ever-renewed discussion on that subject, 
leaving me in doubt as to whether the Arabian Nights 
or Robinson Crusoe or the Pickwick Papers, when they 
appeared, were works of fiction or not. I dared not read 
any of them. There was a very good library at Burleigh, 
my uncle’s plantation, but I stayed there very little. On 
a neighboring place was an only daughter and I was re¬ 
quested to spend my holidays with her. This young 
girl, exactly my own age, Agatha Moncure, afterwards 
married my eldest brother, Fred. The fact was I got 
very little to read and that little was in the nature of 
study, for I was slow and stupid and read very slowly 
indeed. It was at the Moncure home that I was thrown 
with the unfortunate young man who killed himself 
drinking. 

When hostilities between North and South began Cap¬ 
tain Elliot, the gentleman who had given me his guitar 
and who had tried to give me lessons on that instru¬ 
ment, brought me the magnificent United States flag of 
which he was the custodian, it having been presented by 
the ladies of the county to the Raymond Fencibles on 
their victorious return from the Mexican War. I was 
foolish and ignorant enough to cut it up for sashes for 
myself and friends which naturally I lived to regret. 
The blue center sprinkled with stars was made into a 
covering for a baby’s crib. How beautiful it would have 


Through Old Eyes 251 

been to send it to France in 1917, for no doubt its superb 
silk came originally from that country. 

As the war progressed I began to have misgivings 
about the result and one day when my uncle was visiting 
us he, my father and I were alone in the parlor. I said 
to them that, as we were fighting for slavery, I did not 
believe that God would bless our cause with victory. 
This was like a bomb cast at the very feet of my uncle 
and father. It was considered treasonable to doubt our 
sacrosanct institution. I was severely scolded for what I 
had said, but I did not change my opinions, I only con¬ 
cealed them. When General Grant’s troops passed 
through Raymond on their way to Vicksburg the Con¬ 
federates, quartered in and about the town under General 
Gregg of Texas, were taken completely by surprise. The 
General had promised to take his midday meal with us 
that day. He was lucky if he got anything to eat on that 
occasion. When the firing began to be heard we were all 
intensely excited and rushed into the streets, especially 
into the one leading to the battle field. Soon some Con¬ 
federates appeared bringing in a few prisoners. Some of 
the ladies upbraided these violently for invading our 
country. I, having obtained my ideas concerning the 
chivalry of war from Scott’s novels, appealed to them 
in impassioned words not to disgrace our cause by mis¬ 
treating unarmed and helpless prisoners. They were 
kindly women, only so terribly excited. From that day the 
ladies of Raymond had to nurse our wounded in the 
county court house for many weeks. When the news 
came of the fall of Vicksburg I went as usual to the hospi- 


252 


A New World 


tal kitchen, but could not find the Irish took. Hearing 
sounds from behind the door I found him hiding there 
and weeping over the fall of the city. I told him the Con¬ 
federates would soon recover it. ‘‘It’s not that, Miss,” 
he sobbed out. “It’s the boasting of ’em.” I under¬ 
stood him to mean the Irish on the other side. In a 
friend’s ward was a man wounded through the face. He 
was so profane my friend asked him to name his price. He 
said if he had red onions every day he would forego his 
profanity. The bargain was struck and red onions 
proved a moral influence of the highest value. One day 
loud screams of “Mary! Mary!” resounded through the 
halls. I was found and sent to a poor man who thought 
he was being devoured alive. I got my tin basin, warm 
water and soap and soon the wound was clean and neatly 
bandaged. That man was convinced that I had saved 
him from a loathsome death. When he was well enough 
to quit the hospital he sobbed over my hands as he pressed 
them in saying good-bye. 

A neat ambulance drove up to our door one day and a 
stout negro man took out a young officer who had been 
wounded through both legs during the siege of Vicks¬ 
burg. This was Willian Lynch Ware, my future hus¬ 
band. As soon as he was able to walk without crutches 
he returned to his regiment. Dreary weeks now fol¬ 
lowed. The country had been devastated in the path of 
the Union Army. I have often wondered how we lived 
at that time. My sister Elizabeth was housekeeper and 
she and my father always managed to find something to 
put on the table. I was very hungry in those war days 


253 


Through Old Eyes 

and I can never forget my sister’s expression when I 
asked for more bacon, “Just a little piece.” She hated to 
say no, but would whisper, “The servants must have their 
share.” 

We girls had a devoted friend of whom I cannot speak 
without deep and tender regret. Her name was Kate 
Nelson. She was about my age and when she came from 
her New Orleans school to join her family in Raymond, 
she was as beautiful a creature as I have ever seen. Nor 
was her beauty her sole charm. She had a voice in sing¬ 
ing that went straight to one’s heart, and her laughter 
was so fresh and spontaneous that it was irresistibly con¬ 
tagious. Kate came now into our family deliberations 
with an alluring proposition. She knew, I know not how, 
of a part of Arkansas where peace and plenty reigned, 
where the people were as warm-hearted and generous as 
their soil was fruitful and their climate genial. Let us go 
to this Paradise! We should be received hospitably and 
we could all find something to do there. Kate’s enthu¬ 
siasm was convincing. In the ardor of youth, impelled 
by the desire for relief from oppressive conditions and 
restrictions we adopted the idea enthusiastically. Our 
parents were won over. Three of my brothers were in 
the Confederate army. Business was stagnant. It was 
just the moment to welcome a change, as living condi¬ 
tions could hardly have been worse. I have never been to 
Arkansas, but an Arcadian vision rises in my memory 
whenever I hear the name of that state. The difficulty 
was transportation. Now Kate’s home was a center for 
news; both soldiers and officers loved to go there. We 


254 


A New World 


heard then that General Grant was giving away the 
wagons and mules driven into Vicksburg from the plan¬ 
tations on the route of his march. It was decided that 
Kate and I should go to Vicksburg and obtain transporta¬ 
tion from General Grant in person with a safe conduct 
from him through the Union lines. One evening late, 
just as this decision had been reached, a lady of our ac¬ 
quaintance, Mrs. McCowan, came over to see me. She 
had heard that I wanted to go to Vicksburg. She could 
furnish a vehicle and a horse and would willingly take 
me if my youngest brother, John Davis, could drive us. 
She protested, however, that it would not be possible to 
take Kate, as there was positively no room for another 
person. She wished to start very early next morning 
and I must decide immediately. I felt that I could not 
afford to lose this opportunity, as time was worth every¬ 
thing to us if we were to secure the wagons and mules 
that were being given away. I was not happy, however, 
for I feared that Kate would be displeased with me. I 
could only urge my sisters to make it good with her. We 
got off very early next morning. My brother, though 
quite young, was an experienced driver, for it was he 
who made the weekly trips to Burleigh, my uncle’s plan¬ 
tation, for meal, corn and an occasional piece of fine beef, 
or mutton when the family were there, but they were at 
that time refugees in Georgie, and that resource for us 
had been cut off. We reached Big Black station about 
the middle of the day. There was an important Union 
garrison at this point. We asked to see the Command¬ 
ing General who assured me most courteously that our 


255 


Through Old Eyes 

horse, which needed rest very much, should be cared for 
and that meantime we were welcome to the hospitality 
of his tent. Soon after our arrival there, he invited us to 
dine with him. To have accepted dinner from a Union 
General would have been of course rank disloyalty, per¬ 
haps even treason, to the Confederate cause. We replied 
with thanks that we had brought our lunch with us. We 
partook therefore of this meager and unappetizing cold 
meal, while odors of the most alluring nature from 
that hot dinner came floating in to us. We were sustained, 
however, by the thought of our patriotic devotion to the 
Confederacy. While we were waiting there, women 
from the surrounding country began to collect in the 
tent. They came in all kinds of vehicles and told us they 
had come for the weekly rations which General Grant al¬ 
lowed them. I had not heard before that the Union army 
was feeding families in the devastated area. When the 
General came in from his dinner he said to the women 
that he had just received orders from Vicksburg to cease 
giving rations, as General Grant had been informed that 
they were used to feed Confederate soldiers. The women 
thereupon cried out as with one voice that they gave no 
food to Confederate soldiers, they had to feed their own 
children and the children of the negroes, besides the old 
people, they did not have enough to give away, etc., 
multiplying and emphasizing these asseverations. Hear¬ 
ing this and fully convinced that a great wrong was being 
done these poor women, I turned to the General and said: 
“Do you not believe them? I certainly do, and even if 
you do not, it would be more humane and more just to 


256 


A New World 


give them time to make other arrangements instead of 
wasting it to come here for nothing.” The General then 
told them that on his own responsibility he would furnish 
them rations for that week only, but that they must not 
return, as he could not possibly disobey orders. I wish 
I could remember the name of this dear, good man. I 
was blinded then by prejudice nor could I read the hearts 
of men. As soon as the General left us, to give orders 
for the rations, and was well out of hearing, the women 
again with one united voice exclaimed, “Of course we 
feed Confederate soldiers! We would share our last crust 
of bread with them!” My astonishment was too great 
for words, nor should I have known what words to use 
under the circumstances. It was a case for casuistry. 
Were they wrong, believing as they did in the sacredness 
of the Confederate cause? Still they lied with too much 
ease. I could not get over it. We, in Raymond, had 
never refused a Confederate soldier food nor a place at 
our table. These women then had acted right, but why 
couldn’t they have said, “Can we refuse food to the hun¬ 
gry? It would be unchristian,” or better still, when to 
speak is to confess, why not keep silent? Well I felt 
that I had gone surety for a falsehood, and I was ag¬ 
grieved against the women. But more exciting events 
were to follow. General Sherman came over from Vicks¬ 
burg to meet his wife and daughter who were arriving 
from Ohio. The two Generals sat and conversed while 
waiting for the Sherman ladies. General Sherman’s 
“stock” cravat worried him. He took it off and was awk¬ 
wardly trying to arrange it. I, quite naturally, held out 


257 


Through Old Eyes 

my hand, took the cravat, stuck a pin into it and returned 
it to the General, but no sooner had I done this than the 
enormity of my conduct became apparent to me. It was 
indeed nothing short of high treason to the Confederate 
cause and I believed that if Mrs. McCowan betrayed me 
to the people of Raymond I should be ostracized, the 
finger of scorn leveled at me. I had henceforth, too, a 
dreadful secret which I feared to confess even to my most 
intimate friends, or to my family. Nor was the Sherman 
conversation of a nature to allay my scruples. He said 
he was persuading General Grant that the only way to 
end the war speedily was to burn and devastate the coun¬ 
try, for the men would not remain in the Southern army 
if they knew their wives and children were homeless and 
hungry. He was so intent on demonstrating to his ten¬ 
derhearted host the correctness of his theory that he took 
no thought of the two silent women on whom his words 
fell like the doom of an impending fate. Until the war 
was over this Sherman cravat episode was a torment to 
me. The two Generals now went out to meet Mrs. and 
Miss Sherman. They soon returned with the ladies. 
Mrs. Sherman was eager to tell the latest news, and very 
important news it was. The two men listened with rapt 
attention. The Confederate General Morgan who had 
attempted a raid into Ohio, from which the South had 
expected great results, had been captured and he and his 
raiders put into the penitentiary. On hearing this tragic 
news Mrs. McCowan and I began to weep silently, and 
for fear of attracting attention we slowly moved around 
till our backs were pretty well turned to the group of 


A New World 


258 

talkers. We mopped the tears rolling down our cheeks, 
wrung our noses noiselessly, not daring to use our hand¬ 
kerchiefs otherwise, and were very unhappy. We were 
indeed a picture of the decaying fortunes of our poor 
Confederacy. Our hats and clothes looked as though 
they had come from a museum of ancient costumes. Mrs. 
Sherman and her daughter were dressed in the latest 
style, hats and traveling costumes in perfect taste and 
very '‘smart.” The young lady was still very young, 
hardly fully grown. We would have gladly escaped to 
our vehicle but feared to call attention to our wretched 
selves. At length the Sherman party got off and we were 
free to depart. When we reached Vicksburg Mrs. Mc- 
Cowan and I parted, each going to our respective friends. 
My brother John Davis and I were received most hospit¬ 
ably by Mrs. Creasy and her mother Mrs. Pryor whom 
we had often seen at our house in Raymond. Mrs. 
Creasy promised to take me next day to General Grant's 
headquarters. She said she knew one of his staff very 
well, Colonel Strong. This officer received us cordially as 
an old friend of Mrs. Creasy. We were taken immedi¬ 
ately to General Grant. The General manifested, from the 
first moment of our interview, a decided inclination to 
make a joke of the whole business of the Arkansas move. 
Replying to his jests I informed him that we were going 
to a corner of Arkansas where he and his armies could 
not possibly penetrate. He promptly retorted that he in¬ 
tended going right there. He was inexorable as to 
allowing any kind of fire-arms to my father and 
brother en route, but was not averse to the safe 


259 


Through Old Eyes 

conduct through his lines. After many jokes which 
I have forgotten for I was only intent on securing 
those wagons and mules, he asked me to follow 
him. At the end of a corridor he opened the door 
of a large room where a young man was at work at a 
desk. Before addressing him the General asked me in a 
low voice if I didn’t think the young man was very hand¬ 
some. I suppose he was really handsome, but what did 
that matter to me, to whom he was simply an enemy of 
the Confederacy? Not wishing to lose time I replied care¬ 
lessly, “I don’t think he is as handsome as Colonel Strong.” 
Of course Colonel Strong’s beauty, if he had any, had 
made no impression on me, but I said what I did because 
it seemed at the moment the best way of disposing of the 
question of Rawlins’ beauty and of getting down to busi¬ 
ness, namely, to wagons and mules. I had made my re¬ 
mark in a very low voice but now the General horrified 
me by calling out: ‘‘Rawlins, this young lady says you are 
not as handsome as Strong.” Poor Rawlins, thus ex¬ 
posed to criticism on his personal appearance before his 
superior officer, got very red in the face. My fears led 
me to believe that I had decidedly jeopardized my trans¬ 
portation prospects, and I was far more unhappy than 
Rawlins could possibly have been. But the General or¬ 
dered him to make out a paper entitling me to receive 
two wagons and four mules. When this precious docu¬ 
ment was safe in my hands my peace of mind was re¬ 
stored. In spite of deep seated prejudice I had to ac¬ 
knowledge to myself that General Grant was a very 
humane man, and I felt sure he could never commit a 


260 


A New World 


cruel act, that he would inevitably err if err it were, on 
the side of clemency. In comparing the two men, Grant 
and Sherman, I felt and still feel sure that General Grant 
accomplished more by his kind heart than Sherman by 
his theory of ruthlessness. The latter took no thought 
of the soul of man which is not like that of any other of 
God’s creatures. Men bend to force, but hatred smoul¬ 
ders in their hearts. All this, however, is only stating in 
other words the old truth that Christianity is true states¬ 
manship in dealing with a conquered foe, that evil can¬ 
not be overcome with evil. That evening Mrs. Creasy 
took me to General McPherson’s headquarters to get 
from him the order for two more wagons and four more 
mules for the Nelson family. Mrs. Creasy agreed with 
me that this was better than to ask General Grant for 
all the transportation. It occurred to me, however, after¬ 
wards, that one of these two Generals might well have 
mentioned my mission to the other, and then what would 
they have thought of a young woman who sought by de¬ 
ception to acquire more than a just proportion of the 
plunder of Southern plantations! This thought tortured 
me and I felt sure I could have confided to General Grant 
the whole story, and Mrs. Creasy was there to corroborate 
it, but it is my fate always to commit mistakes and re¬ 
pent of them when too late. When General McPherson 
heard my name, he said: “I read a letter from you to your 
brother when I was in charge of the prisoners on John¬ 
son’s Island.” I said: “You should not have read a letter 
not intended for you.” ‘‘But it was a duty enjoined on 
me to read all letters addressed to the prisoners. I should 


261 


Through Old Eyes 

not have allowed that letter to go through according to 
rules, but I did so notwithstanding.” I remembered the 
letter very well. It was a denunciation of the Union 
army and, I am now willing to believe, both unjust and 
exaggerated, but my brother Fred told me after his re¬ 
lease that it was a joy to his fellow prisoners when he 
read it to them. So, in spite of its faults it served the pur¬ 
pose of cheering those unfortunate victims who were ex¬ 
piating the folly and iniquity of mistreating Northern 
prisoners in Southern camps, the only stigma, I hope and 
believe, on the conduct of the war by the South. General 
McPherson now took out some letters he had received 
from Southern ladies proving how lenient he had been 
in carrying out his instructions, how he had sympathized 
with them in their unmerited sufferings, privations, etc. 
He wanted me to read them. Now if there was one thing 
I dreaded more than another it was to be asked to read 
strange handwriting in public. I was and am still singu¬ 
larly deficient in aptitude for reading script. My eyes 
are very weak, but that accounts for it only in part. I 
take more time to-day to read my correspondence than 
any of my family or friends. I was, therefore, unwilling 
to make a spectacle of myself before General McPherson 
and Mrs. Creasy and got out of it as best I could by ask¬ 
ing him questions. Did he favor turning our slaves 
against their masters? Of course he could not discuss 
such subjects with anyone, certainly not publicly. Why 
he cared in the least for my conversation is more than 
I can tell. I suppose that being in an enemy country he 
was deprived of ladies' society. I am very sure that if 


262 


A New World 


he had had cultivated women to talk to he would never 
have listened to me who had been born and bred in a town 
smaller than any Northern village; but whenever Mrs. 
Creasy would propose to go he would beg her to stay just 
a little longer, till that good lady, who took not the slight¬ 
est interest in our conversation, got out of all patience 
and dragged me off. Next morning after breakfast, 
entirely satisfied with my two orders for transportation 
to that Arkansian Arcadia, I found in the parlor a trashy 
novel which was absorbing my whole attention. Indeed 
I was weeping freely over it, for one of my unfortunate 
characteristics was the easy flow of tears. My eyes had 
been weak from my earliest infancy and tears had the 
effect of making them positively unsightly. The whole 
careless happiness of youth had in my case been marred 
by this infirmity of the eyes. At this moment Mrs. 
Creasy came hurriedly into the room, calling out that 
General McPherson was on the front porch and I must 
come out instantly. No help in sight for me. I had to 
go on that porch, into the clear morning light which re¬ 
vealed pitilessly my swollen eyes. I was dressed, too, 
very badly, in a dress spun and woven in a small farm¬ 
house near Raymond. Of course General McPherson 
was an enemy, but there was my wounded vanity whis¬ 
pering, “What a disillusion for the man who thought you 
worthy of his conversation and attentions yesterday even- 
ing.” The General said: “I have ridden all over Vicks¬ 
burg this morning, but I can find no harness anywhere.” 
I had never thought of harness, but now piqued and mor¬ 
tified, I said: “So your gift was not a real one. You 


Through Old Eyes 263 

knew I should not be able to get the wagons and mules 
to Raymond.” Without appearing to notice this ungrate- 
ful and impertinent remark, the General said gravely, 
“I think I can give you some good advice. In the Con¬ 
federate hospital there are some wounded men most 
anxious to leave. Give my order to them and if there is 
harness still in Vicksburg they will find it.” He mounted 
his horse and rode away. I believe he was killed soon 
afterwards in Tennessee, one of the noblest and most 
chivalrous men produced on either side in that war. My 
one desire at that moment was to leave Vicksburg and 
get home as soon as possible. Without asking Mrs. 
Creasy to accompany me I started off immediately to the 
Confederate Hospital. There I was brought before the 
superintendent, a Northern man. I told him my busi¬ 
ness in few words. He looked at me with what appeared 
to be withering contempt, and said: “At your age young 
ladies in the North stay at home with their parents and 
leave business to men.” I really did not need any more 
mortifications that morning, and this blow overwhelmed 
me. I handed him the two orders and said I was told to 
come there. I did not attempt to justify myself. I 
bowed to the storm, feeling very miserable and forsaken, 
with the one imperious necessity of getting home where 
everybody loved me and where I always had the feeling 
that I was a favorite, not that this was true, but there are 
families that have the gift of creating this impression in 
each member. When I reached home I found my uncle 
there, who had persuaded my father to rent out his Ray¬ 
mond house and move to Burleigh, my uncle’s plantation. 


264 


A New World 


The family were refugees and the slaves too had been 
taken away, so someone was needed to protect the prop¬ 
erty. My father was greatly elated by my success in 
Vicksburg for the wagons and mules would enable him to 
cultivate the kitchen garden and a field at Burleigh with 
the slaves who had not left us. Besides he needed them 
to move down to the plantation, ten miles distant over bad 
roads. The Nelsons, too, were easily reconciled to em¬ 
ploying their two wagons and mules in hauling freight 
to and from Vicksburg instead of seeking adventures in 
for away Arkansas, so all praised me, especially when 
the first wagon arrived with the news that the other three 
would soon follow. It brought two Confederate lieuten¬ 
ants with gifts of flour, coffee and mackerel. Great was 
the rejoicing among whites and blacks in our household 
at tasting once more these almost forgotten delicacies. 
All four wagons were put to immediate use by both fami¬ 
lies. My father found no difficulty in renting his house 
and we were soon most comfortably installed in the plan¬ 
tation home at Burleigh. 

One beautiful afternoon at Burleigh in early autumn, 
as I was returning from a short walk, I was perfectly 
amazed to find our garden invaded by Northern troops. 
I hastened to the house and learned that a company of 
soldiers had come from Vicksburg to get the cotton my 
uncle had sold to the Confederate Government. I was im¬ 
mediately sent to the Commanding Officer, a Colonel, I 
believe, to ask for a couple of soldiers as a guard for the 
house. I was to ask also that he do us the favor of hav¬ 
ing our mules and two horses put in the cellar for safety. 


265 


Through Old Eyes 

He granted both these requests. Later he came to the 
house and made arrangements with my sister Elizabeth 
for a supper that night for himself and his fellow officers. 
She told him we had neither flour, bacon nor coffee 
(true). He said he would send these articles and prom¬ 
ised to pay fifty cents besides for each man’s supper. My 
sister told the Colonel that our family did not own the 
plantation, we were only taking care of the house, that the 
war had greatly impoverished us and she asked him to 
leave us three bales of the cotton and have it put in the 
cellar, to all of which he obligingly consented. At the 
time of the arrival of the soldiers there was a large iron 
laundry boiler in the yard before the kitchen, in which a 
hog was being boiled to make soap. The animal had died 
and was considered fit only to utilize in that way. The 
soldiers without asking any questions of the servants 
helped themselves to the entire boiler full and consumed 
it. We only heard of this later. I hope it did them no 
harm for it was thoroughly cooked. We had constant 
alarms throughout the afternoon and night. The soldiers 
wanted to kill the deer in the park but with the guard we 
were able to protect them. We sat up the whole night on 
the front porch with the two soldiers who guarded us 
in order to keep them awake for prowlers came continu¬ 
ally, trying to get the horses and mules from the cellar. 
We were six young girls in the house, my three sisters, 
myself, our faithful friend Kate Nelson, and our future 
sister-in-law, Agatha Moncure. Besides these there were 
our parents, my youngest brother John Davis and my 
little sister, Letitia. Kate Nelson sang her sweetest songs 


266 


A New World 


throughout the night and we told anecdotes. The soldiers 
were highly entertained. When the day broke and their 
comrades left they too were anxious to be off, but we were 
so afraid of stragglers stealing everything from us that 
we persuaded them to remain long after the sun had risen, 
endangering their lives most certainly, for Confederate 
scouts would, I fear, have made short shrift of them had 
they been discovered. I have always hoped that nothing 
harmful happened to those two good men. When at 
length the debacle of the Confederacy took place those 
three bales of cotton were of immense help to our family. 
While we were still living at Burleigh word came that 
Lieutenant Ware was mortally wounded in the eastern 
part of the state. My father and a cousin of Mr. Ware’s, 
my dear friend Anna Martin, now Mrs. Marion Douglas 
of California, accompanied me on the journey, in the hope 
that we might possibly find him living on our arrival. 
He had received a ball full in the chest, which, happily 
being somewhat spent, fell downward after piercing and 
shattering the breast bone. Mr. Ware asked that we 
should be married before my father returned home. 
With the help of his very capable body-servant, Norfolk, 
I nursed him slowly back to health. When he was able 
to walk once more we went to Burleigh where were 
gathered the two families of the Raymond Dabneys and 
the Burleigh Dabneys. My husband’s only brother was 
there also recovering from a wound in the hip which 
left him very lame but apparently in good health. It was 
a gay household. The young people had been acting plays 
and when I arrived I was called on immediately to fill 


267 


Through Old Eyes 

the role of Mr. Hardcastle in “She Stoops to Conquer/’ 
my sole fitness for it being that I could wear my husband’s 
clothes. However, he would not permit me to appear on 
our improvised stage without his overcoat. To offset 
this incongruous costume I made with great care a jabot 
for the Hardcastle shirt, but in the confusion of the 
green-room it was lost. To my inquiries of the various 
actresses “Have you seen Mr. Hardcastle’s shirt?” The 
reply was invariably “no.” “Can’t you help me find it?” 
“Too busy.” I was in despair. Was I to forego the 
effect on the invited guests of the fine jabot I had made, 
or was Mr. Hardcastle in his own house to button up his 
overcoat as though he were exposed to the winter’s blast 
on some highway? I felt the whole responsibility of 
the role but could see no help, so I sat down and sobbed. 
This drew the attention of the green-room to the serious¬ 
ness of the situation and Mr. Hardcastle’s shirt and jabot 
were soon found. I am ashamed of this episode but 
because it remains so clear in my mind I have given it. 
Not very long after this we paid a visit to New Orleans. 
There I was introduced for the first time to the opera 
and the theatre. The ballet fascinated me more than 
any other part of the performance and in my enthusiasm I 
exclaimed, “Oh what wonderful, what beautiful chil¬ 
dren !” Whereupon my husband hastened to inform me 
how far these fairylike creatures were from being chil¬ 
dren. I listened with horror, for my bringing-up had 
been strictly on puritanical lines. Springing up and turn¬ 
ing to my aunt I said: “Aunt Martha, this is no place for 
us, let us go!” And in spite of the expostulations of my 


268 


A New World 


husband we left the Opera house far more quickly than 
we had entered it. Mr. Ware followed much against his 
will, “a sadder and a wiser man.” The ballet, after this 
somewhat stormy introduction, became later, a prime 
favorite, indeed the greatest attraction of the theatre to 
me. Graceful, rhythmic movements of dancers to the ac¬ 
companiment of music charm me inexpressibly. As to 
the ballet girls I love to think they are as innocent and 
pure as they are graceful. They can be, then why 
shouldn’t they? Those were carefree days, but others 
were to follow of a very different nature. My husband’s 
brother, Sedley L. Ware, who was called by us Toby, one 
of the most beautiful young men I have ever seen, was 
taken with consumption and in spite of all the care lav¬ 
ished on him, died within the year. No one understood 
in those days the treatment of lung trouble. Mr. 
Ware took me to the plantation which was situated in 
the Yazoo River swamp on Honey Island. This place 
was of great value before the war as it was above over¬ 
flow. But now the slaves were free and it was burdened 
with a heavy mortgage. As no interest on this mortgage 
had been paid during the war the original amount was 
greatly increased. The husband of the lady to whom it 
was due was most anxious for a settlement and came to 
the Island while we were there. I suggested to Mr. Ware 
that the cotton on hand at the prevailing prices would pay 
the debt and leave us free. But he hated this debt, said 
it was an unjust one and he would rather try a law suit 
than pay it. I pleaded that a mortgage on the land would 
have to be paid sooner or later, that the creditor was so 



269 


Through Old Eyes 

anxious for a settlement he would undoubtedly give the 
highest market price for the cotton delivered at our land¬ 
ing on the river. My arguments could not overcome his 
repugnance to the origin of the debt and his determina¬ 
tion to consult his lawyer. This decision was fatal to our 
happiness and to our prosperity. The lawyer advised 
yearly payments over a long term of years and charged 
four thousand dollars for the advice. The price of cotton 
fell rapidly even before we could get it to the market. 
The rebuilding of the family residence near Jackson, 
which had been burned during the war, swallowed up 
a large sum of money. So many houses had been burned 
that building materials and labor rose enormously in 
price. We lived in that house near Jackson for twelve 
years, leaving the plantation to the care of overseers till 
our affairs became so desperate, that after giving up one 
piece of property after another, we finally sold the home 
place with its six hundred acres of land, mostly wooded, 
for less than half of what the house and furniture had 
cost us. The sacrifice of this home which had belonged 
originally to his grand-father and where he was born 
and passed his childhood was a great trial to my husband. 
His health was most wretched and he died the year after 
we moved up to the plantation. One year later I lost my 
second daughter, a child of six and a half years, of rare 
beauty and intelligence. I had lost my first daughter at 
Jackson when only one year old. Work was now my only 
antidote to grief. I hoped to clear the plantation from 
debt and to achieve finally financial independence. I had 
breakfast at four in the morning as an example to the 


270 


A New World 


field hands. The place was in the greatest need of an en¬ 
closure. It needed also a new gin house and new machin¬ 
ery. I was able to get all these things done and put 
everything in complete repair. Freedom had given the 
negroes a great passion for litigation and numbers of 
them were in the habit of going fifteen miles to the 
county town to settle their disputes in court. I settled 
them on the plantation, and knowing thoroughly the 
character of my people I managed to satisfy them all. I 
made a superb vegetable garden in a spot left by neglect 
to weeds and brambles. In the midst of these varied 
occupations I received a hurried summons to Jackson 
from my creditor, Mr. Ned Richardson, from whom I 
learned that the judgment he held against the plantation 
had become barred by the statute of limitations. He 
wanted to know what I intended to do about it. I 
said: ‘‘You have changed the original interest rate from 
eight to ten per cent. Put it back retrospectively to eight 
per cent, and I promise to pay the whole amount.” He 
agreed to this and having visited the place and seen the 
fine order in which everything had been put, he offered to 
rent it for a few years to settle the debt. I was so eager 
to get to California to my sister Elizabeth, to whom I 
had sent my son Sedley in the care of his Aunt Martha, 
that I could feel nothing but gratitude to Mr. Richardson 
for my freedom. 

What a paradise was California in 1878 when I arrived 
there. I have seen many lands since then, but never one 
I thought the equal of California. It was before the time 
of insect pests, which came later to torment the fruit 


271 


Through Old Eyes 

grower. In the autumn the big wagons came into the 
town early in the morning fresh from the fields, heaped 
up with boxes of grapes, the dew still on them, and such 
perfect grapes! They have not their superiors in all the 
world. They were sold at one cent a pound. As there 
was no rain for some six months in the year the apricots 
in the gardens ripened to perfection and dropped one 
by one on the soft green sward under the trees, like a rich 
embroidery to the eye. The fallen fruit did not decay 
for a long time, but slowly dried. No one seemed to 
object to the passerby helping himself. When I stopped 
to ring a bell and asked for permission to eat a few apri¬ 
cots from the ground the answer was always “Why, cer¬ 
tainly, madam.” Then the cherries, the melons, the figs, 
and the prunes! These latter were new to me and most 
fascinating. Even before ripening they have no acidity. 
It is one of the sweetest fruits grown. I do not under¬ 
stand why the fresh prunes lose this sweetness by trans¬ 
portation to the east, for on the trees they are marvelously 
sweet. 

But my poor boy was still suffering from malaria con¬ 
tracted in Mississippi, so we accepted an invitation to 
spend some weeks on a lovely fruit ranch near St. Helena, 
owned by Mrs. Heath. There my son threw off every 
trace of malaria. It was a regular grape cure, the fruit 
being eaten fresh from the vines. I too should have been 
strong and well with all care lifted from my mind, free 
from the bondage of debt and for the first time with a 
feeling of security for the future, but by my own want 
of good judgment and of moderation, I had brought on 


272 


A New World 


spells of palpitation of the heart causing great weakness 
of the voice and a nervous dread of these attacks I could 
not control. One night I caused Mrs. Heath to be roused 
in the middle of the night. I said when she entered my 
room, “My friend, I feel that I am dying. My teeth 
are chattering, my heart is beating most irregularly. I 
believe the coldness of death is creeping over me.” With¬ 
out a word that sagacious lady turned and left the room. 
When she came back she had a very large glass of whiskey 
and water, mostly whiskey, and she commanded me to 
swallow it. I had never drunk so much before, but I 
obeyed. I was quite well next morning and I procured a 
bottle of whiskey, which I put on my night table. I had 
no desire to drink it; just to look at it quieted my nerves 
and gave me courage, for I said to myself: “What have I 
to fear when the remedy stands there close at hand ?” It 
is with genuine regret that I bear this unwilling testimony 
to what whiskey did for me in those days, for I am a 
thoroughly convinced prohibitionist and bless the day 
when that beneficent measure was passed. We left the 
beautiful fruit ranch and returned to Santa Rosa on re¬ 
ceiving the news that my dearest brother, Dr. John Davis 
Dabney was hopelessly ill with yellow fever. He had 
been riding out of his little town after midnight every 
night, not even letting his body-servant know of his 
movements, to a camp of refugees from Vicksburg, 
Mississippi. There he nursed the sick and helped bury 
the dead till one morning before day as he was returning 
home the fatal disease seized him. Happily, however, he 
survived this attack and was sent later by the govern- 


273 


Through Old Eyes 

ment as a yellow fever expert to Cuba during our war 
with Spain. There my dearest brother was of little serv¬ 
ice to the army, for he was taken very ill himself and 
suffered severely. Until that time, that enemy of the 
human race, the tiny but vile mosquito, had been plying 
undisturbed its “busy toil” of inoculating into the human 
family all the poisons it could collect. If that war served 
in any degree to unmask this insidious foe, it was worth 
all the disgrace of embalmed beef and the deaths from 
preventable causes among our soldiers. I had a feeling 
at that time that we should have been too proud to fight 
that war, but as in its consequences it did so much good 
I think it justified itself. I left California with my son 
in the late autumn of 1880, choosing the time just before 
he was twelve years of age. He was much overgrown, 
and like all boys under similar circumstances, seemed to 
take up much more than his share of room on the train. 
No conductor had uttered a protest against his half-price 
ticket till the night before we reached Vicksburg and then 
one, more vigilant than the others, eyed the boy narrowly 
and asked: “What age is that boy?” “He will be twelve 
tomorrow, the fifteenth of November.” He gave an in¬ 
credulous grunt and observed, “He’ll not travel on a 
half-price again.” “You are perfectly right, sir.” 

When the time came to take back my plantation, which 
had been rented out, I went up to my brother’s home at 
Tchula on the Yazoo River, or rather on the Horseshoe 
Lake formed from it. When the negroes heard I was 
there, my particular and faithful friends, among them 
came to see me. “Miss Mary,” they said, “that overseer 


274 


A New World 


of Mr. Ned Richardson done opened that ditch near the 
corn cribs and the stable, and all night long when the 
water is high you can hear the ground tumbling in that 
ditch. It’s so big and wide now, it's going to carry off 
your cribs and your stable into the river.” After hearing 
this report from my good colored friends I could not sleep 
at night. I could hear the whole time the earth caving 
into that ditch and being carried off by the raging flood. 
My brother begged me to go abroad and put the ocean 
between me and Lynchfield. He promised to take charge 
of everything for me, a promise he more than fulfilled. 
My lawyer advised me to bring suit against Mr. Richard¬ 
son, promising at least ten thousand dollars in damages. 
This idea I did not entertain for a moment. It was Mr. 
Richardson’s confidence in me which caused his securities 
to expire by the statute of limitations. But even if it were 
true, as others said, that his confidence was in the im¬ 
provements I was putting on the plantation, still he had 
lifted that burden of debt from me, given me freedom 
from care, thereby most likely saving my life. All that 
I could not forget. 

I commenced in California the study of languages 
which suited me better than any other occupation. I 
found in Santa Rosa a French family and a German one 
where I arranged to spend four hours daily, two in the 
morning and two in the afternoon, talking and reading 
those two languages. I can never forget that wife and 
mother in the French family. There were no other 
French people in Santa Rosa, whereas the Germans 
formed a prosperous and happy community. I began 


275 


Through Old Eyes 

my lessons with Madam G. by asking her to recount the 
story of her life. It was a very sad one, and the first 
day she shed many tears over it. I gave her my unquali¬ 
fied sympathy, but I understood very little of what she 
said. Next day I begged her to repeat the story, which 
she did with fewer tears, and as day after day I asked as 
a special favor the same history, she learned to tell it with 
cheerful equanimity and great improvement of style. I 
learned a lot of French and this good woman became far 
more resigned. She had received much genuine sympa¬ 
thy from me, and things seemed to look brighter to her, 
just as the poets, singing their woes to a listening world, 
find consolation in the universal sympathy they inspire. 
They cast their griefs out of their own hearts while plant¬ 
ing them in the hearts of others. The best German 
teacher I ever had was in Richmond, Virginia. She was 
far more cultivated than any of my previous ones. She 
and I read Goethe together. In spite of the great beau¬ 
ties of Faust I could not enjoy a tragedy. They always 
affect me painfully, especially when read for the first time, 
so one day I stopped reading and exclaimed, “I don’t like 
this man Faust! He has taken Mephistopheles as his 
confederate and between them what chance, I should like 
to know, has this poor girl Marguerite?” I was in such 
dead earnest that I did not perceive the effect of my words 
on the classical mind of my friend and teacher. Next 
day she said: “I thought of your criticism of Faust in 
the middle of the night and got in such a laugh that I 
waked my husband, who asked in amazement, ‘What on 
earth are you laughing about at this hour of the night!’ ” 


276 


A New World 


But I really can take no pleasure in a tragedy unless the 
guilty alone are punished. King Lear is far too painful, 
whereas Macbeth is much less so to me. 

My son and I went to Germany in May, 1883. The 
day before sailing, my friend, Mrs. Farragut, came to 
Baltimore from New York to tell us good-bye and to put 
us under the care of the Captain, thinking this would 
render our voyage more agreeable. Besides, going to 
Germany in those days was not such an every-day occur¬ 
rence as it became later. On the ship she asked to see 
the Captain and said to him, “As the wife of a sailor,” she 
wanted to ask him to take good care of her two friends. 
The Captain was far from being a cultivated man. He 
was in fact a plain, heavy German. I believe he had never 
in his life heard of Admiral Farragut, and being the 
wife of a sailor represented no element of distinction to 
his mind. I was, therefore, not a little mortified that 
the generous efforts of my friend in our behalf should 
have met with such scant courtesy and such indifference. 
She offered to give me an introduction to the great Von 
Moltke whom she knew, but I declined on the ground 
that my means were then too limited to enable me to be a 
credit to her. She had taken quite a fancy to my son in 
consequence of the following incident: While on a visit 
to New York my usual remittance failed to arrive. Miss 
Loyall, sister to Mrs. Farragut, pressed a loan on me. I 
had used it all and still no cheque had come, when one 
afternoon of pouring rain a messenger brought the sorely- 
needed funds. My son exclaimed: “Now I shall pay 
our debt.” I remonstrated, saying that people would 


277 


Through Old Eyes 

think that I was mad to send him out in such weather. 
But go he would, and as soon as he entered the Farragut 
house he rushed into the sitting-room and threw the 
notes triumphantly into the lap of my friend, Miss 
Camilla Loyall. Mrs. Farragut, who was sitting near, 
was both touched and amused at the boy’s earnestness, 
and from that moment she became his friend and admirer. 
She invited us to join her party at the Springs next 
season, and it was there that I became intimately 
acquainted with her. Instead of spending on display or 
in other forms of self-indulgence, she educated the 
children of impoverished relations in the South, and later 
watched helpfully over their careers. Her reverence and 
devotion to her husband’s memory were profound. She 
loved to talk to me of him. When he was on his death¬ 
bed her Irish maid brought in a Catholic priest, but he 
said coldly, “You are not my pilot,” and turned away his 
head. At the close of a cruise of three years he wrote 
his wife that he had been faithful to her every moment 
of that time. This letter was her greatest treasure, and 
it was only after a struggle that she permitted her son to 
publish it in the Life of his father. I never saw Mrs. 
Farragut after our parting on the ship, for she died the 
following year. 

On our arrival in Germany we took the train to 
Bremen. This quaint old town with its varied archi¬ 
tecture made a deep and lasting impression on my mind, 
and I have always desired to return there in the same 
month of May, go to the same hotel and see again its 
rows of windows all decorated with trailing creepers and 


278 


A New World 


brilliant flowering plants. This hotel was situated in 
park-like surroundings beside a placid stream flowing 
between green and level banks, with white swans, fed by 
little children, sailing lazily on its waters. White blos¬ 
soms from over-hanging shrubs fell gently therein and 
floated away into the unknown. I still desire ardently 
to see that scene again but save in my memory I never 
shall. From Bremen we went to Hanover where we 
settled down for two years. During the first year and 
a half my son was in an admirable private school where 
he should have remained, but the principal having de¬ 
clared that he was prepared for the gymnasium, and our 
ambition coinciding, he was admitted to it the second 
year after our arrival. But the discipline was very 
severe and the studies very difficult, far too difficult for 
a foreigner of his age and imperfect preparation. He 
might, however, have held out till the summer vacation, 
had it not been for the fatal passion our hostess conceived 
for a certain Kapell-Meister, a young man who never 
deigned to notice her. Of course unaided I could never 
have discovered this love affair, but there were two 
charming German girls in the house, our fellow-boarders. 
In Germany it is very much the custom after a girl 
has finished her studies to board in a family where the 
mistress understands cooking and housewifery, the which 
our hostess understood perfectly. She was not in the 
slightest degree mercenary and the table was most ex¬ 
cellent. Everything in fact was favorable for us except 
that unfortunate love affair. She was no longer young, 
but age in her case was no antidote. The girls came 


279 


Through Old Eyes 

daily to my room to inform me of what was going on. 
Just before my arrival in the house they had been forced 
to subscribe funds to buy a gigantic wreath with heavy 
satin ribbons on which were printed in letters of gold 
the names of the donors. It was presented on the oc¬ 
casion of the fete of the Kapell-Meister and ever since 
then, they said, the members of the orchestra would smile 
at them in the most significant manner. They hated to 
be dragged every afternoon to the public garden, to be 
seated in front of these musicians in order that the poor 
old infatuated woman could be soothed by the sight of 
the obdurate object of her devotion. There was nothing 
in all this to harm my son, but at the other extremity of 
the city stood the Governor’s castle where at twelve 
o’clock every day the Kapell-Meister had to be present 
when the guard was relieved. There were no street rail¬ 
ways in those days in every direction. Our hostess could 
not resist the temptation to be present on each and every 
one of these occasions. She went and she came on foot, 
returning late, all breathless to rush into the kitchen and 
complete the preparations for dinner. My son had to 
swallow this meal half masticated and then run all the 
way to school, quite a distance from us, to avoid punish¬ 
ment. His health gave way completely and he had to 
be taken from school. Years afterwards when I went 
to Bayreuth and saw the theater which Wagner had built 
there, I was struck with the sagacity of that great com¬ 
poser. He concealed his Kapell-Meister under the stage 
where he could do no harm. Wagner apparently was 
the only man in Germany who knew how to deal with 


280 


A New World 


this dangerous class. But alas! there was only one 
Wagner and many Kapell-Meisters. They are men of 
great musical talent and train marvelous orchestras. 
Some are very celebrated and have hosts of devoted 
admirers. They stand in immaculate attire, waving their 
magic wands with Olympian authority, causing fatal 
perturbations in the hearts of their women hearers. 

The doctor ordered my son to spend a year in the 
mountains of Switzerland, without studying. From that 
country we went to Paris, but his health was never finally 
restored till he began daily fencing lessons, followed by 
hot and cold showers. These made a strong man of 
him. From France he went to Oxford in England where 
he studied three years in Magdalen College. 

During our long stay abroad I saw the Passion play 
at Oberammergau three times, twice in 1890 and again 
in 1900. In the ten year interval I forgot entirely the 
name of the family where I was twice lodged in 1890, so 
that when I returned in 1900 with my nieces I was obliged 
to ask for a new address. When the door of this house 
was opened to us, a woman threw herself on my neck, 
calling at the same time to her sister who went through 
the same performance, both assuring me they knew I was 
coming and had been looking for me daily since the 
public began to arrive. Of course I could not confess to 
those kind-hearted souls that I had forgotten their ad¬ 
dress, that I had come to them by the purest accident, and 
I trembled to think of their disillusion had they dis¬ 
covered me in someone else’s house. Their attachment to 
me was occasioned by a service I had been able to render 


28 i 


Through Old Eyes 

them, a service under somewhat ludicrous circumstances. 
The night before the play there was such loud and per¬ 
sistent talking in the passage before my door that I could 
not possibly sleep. I waited in vain for it to cease, and 
at length in despair got up and peeped out. On one side 
were ranged our hostess, her sister, the son of the latter, 
who played the role of the Archangel, and the little maid 
who acted in the tableaux. Opposite this German bat¬ 
talion stood a solitary representative of the hereditary 
enemy, in the person of a young French woman of un¬ 
certain age. She had left her bed so precipitately that 
she had only time to throw a flannel petticoat over her 
night gown. The gown had been caught perversely in 
the placquet-hole of the petticoat and protruded behind in 
the form of a white tail, which wagged unceasingly, 
responsive to the violent movements of its owner, who 
was terribly excited as she faced first one and then 
another of her adversaries. I listened silently for a 
while. The young French woman accused the Germans 
of putting her, a young lady, in the room with men! 
Absolutely inexcusable in her eyes. The Germans ex¬ 
plained that she had bought a single bed in their big 
room where a German family of father, mother and 
grown son had bought the other three, that moreover 
there was no other bed free in the house, and that the 
German family were honest people, who would do no 
harm to anyone. But the young woman’s point of view 
was very different. She whispered to me “Madame je 
suis demoiselle!” and I understood that her fears were 
very genuine, for if it were told of her that she had 


282 


A New World 


slept in the room with two men, Germans at that, where 
would have been her chances of matrimony not too bril¬ 
liant at best? I translated for both parties, but that 
could not solve an insolvable difficulty. So seeing there 
was no other way to have peace, I gave my bed to the 
damsel and went into the dormitory, where I might have 
slept very well had there been any quiet. The Germans 
slept profoundly under their feather beds, but the 
father never ceased to snore at high pressure, there¬ 
by making a fearful volume of sound. Then the young 
man, much too warm under his big round feather bed, 
pounded it with open palms at intervals, which produced 
such startling eruptions of noise, that it was nerve and 
brain racking. It was a frightful night, with not a 
moment of sleep or repose. Could I have anticipated it, 
I might have had another bed put in the room which I 
shared with an American girl friend. 

It is a mistake to witness the Passion Play at Oberam- 
mergau more than once. On my first visit I had with 
me my niece, Nellie Porter, afterwards Mrs. F. W. 
Searby, a very congenial companion. On that occasion 
rain and a thunder storm accompanied the crucifixion. 
Most of the theater was open to the sky, and people 
protected themselves from rain by blankets and shawls. 
It was terribly realistic, and the Mary of that time was 
a most marvelous personage. The tones of her voice 
alone thrilled every heart, and her appearance was in 
harmony with her voice. One could not have desired 
a more saintly earthly mother for the Savior. But not 
again could I experience that profound and overpowering 


283 


Through Old Eyes 

impression which caused me to exclaim: “Never before 
was there such acting on earth!” One becomes in¬ 
voluntarily critical at the second visit. On my third, 
there sat in front of me a German girl, apparently from 
the country. Whenever Judas Iscariot came on the stage 
she was seized with an uncontrollable fit of laughter, 
which kept her silently shaking. Now Judas was quite 
a celebrity in the world at large, but he certainly over¬ 
acted his part. When our Savior handed him a morsel 
of bread he snapped at it as a dog would do. He could 
not be natural even in that simple act. He was too con¬ 
scious that his role was that of the traitor, and felt 
impelled to call attention to himself continually. A more 
thoughtful and natural attitude would not have excited 
laughter in that unsophisticated girl. She reminded me 
of the child that discovered to the people that the Emperor 
of China was naked, in Hans Andersen’s well-known 
fairy tale. 

I think it was in the summer of 1892 that we were 
received in audience at the Vatican. Leo the 13th en¬ 
joyed a very high reputation and under him the Papacy 
attained great moral authority throughout the world. He 
was a born aristocrat and an experienced diplomatist. 
He was said also to be a poet and a writer. All visitors 
to Rome were eager to be received by him. It was 
Bishop Stoner who procured us this honor. He was an 
Irish Bishop who had studied at Oxford, and on learn¬ 
ing that my son was to enter Magdalen College that 
autumn, he took an interest in him. When I read the 
dress-regulations prescribed to those who were to be 


284. 


A New World 


received by the Pope, I felt satisfied that I should have 
no trouble on that score as I possessed a black lace dress 
and veil, but the case was very different with my son. I 
had pleaded in vain with him to put his evening suit in 
his luggage, but he seemed to think that it would, in a 
measure, destroy the freedom and enjoyment of his sum¬ 
mer vacation if he had to carry that evening suit around 
with him. We had little time for preparation when we 
were ordered to present ourselves the following day at 
twelve o’clock at the Vatican. We were staying at the 
well-known Michel-Castellane pension where I had 
already spent a winter with my niece, Nellie Porter, in 
1890-91. When our two hosts learned of my son’s 
predicament both offered to lend him their dress suits, 
as did a Harvard student, who excused himself for not 
having a fresher suit to offer, as he had brought his second 
best only with him. At the weekly dances during the 
winter in the Michel-Castellane pension these two gentle¬ 
men always appeared in the most fasionable apparel, so 
I thanked them for their generous offer. Each of them 
had, however, a figure apart and peculiar to himself, also 
entirely different from that of my son, who was very tall, 
very slim, and with shoulders so sloping that they ap¬ 
peared to be almost effaced. M. Michel had an extremely 
long, heavy body with short, stout legs and long arms. 
M. Castellane was not tall. His legs were short and his 
body had the shape of a huge pear, the well rounded stem 
pointed naturally to the front. Next morning the three 
packages were brought to my room. I took them im¬ 
mediately to my son, whom I found sound asleep and 


285 


Through Old Eyes 

somewhat inclined to be irritated at my sudden irrup¬ 
tion. When I opened the Michel-Castellane contributions 
I found to my dismay that they were very ancient dress 
suits, kept doubtless for carnival occasions, where one 
is liable to be a target for all kinds of missiles. But they 
had certainly been made originally for their owners, as 
they presented all the peculiarities of their physical 
structure. The suit of the Harvard student was quite 
decent, though lacking in freshness and somewhat worn. 
It proved, however, to be too short in the sleeves and in 
the trousers. When the Castellane suit was tried on, I 
had to pin the trousers’ band over in such a big bunch 
behind, that under the coat it presented the most absurd 
resemblance to a woman’s bustle, so incongruous and 
altogether ludicrous, that I simply had to throw myself 
on the bed in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. At this 
my son, who was viewing his face in a small dressing- 
table mirror, hearing me laugh turned abruptly to demand 
the cause of my hilarity. I could not, of course, answer, 
so he continued to hurl his inquiries at me, “What on 
earth are you laughing about? Can’t you say at least 
what you are laughing at ?” accompanying his words with 
such violent and jerky movements that he looked more 
ludicrous than ever. It was some time before I could 
speak, for I was nearly suffocated with laughter. At last 
when his patience was entirely at an end, I was able 
to get up and proceed to business. I chose finally the 
Michel waistcoat because of its length. I pinned the 
lower edges to the Harvard trousers so as to let them fall 
as nearly as possible to the ankles. I then folded the 


286 


A New World 


back of the waistcoat in a deep plait all the way up the 
spinal column. Then the Harvard coat was chosen 
because the Michel coat would have fallen in drapery 
around his form, as M. Castellane’s had already done. I 
then admonished my son earnestly, to keep his head erect 
and his shoulders set back and lifted just a little, else the 
coat was likely to fall off, as there was no way to fasten 
it on him. I trusted to my voluminous lace veil to con¬ 
ceal, in a measure, the shortness of the sleeves, or one of 
them at least. We took the carriage and arrived in time 
to spend hours waiting. We really could have eaten our 
luncheon before leaving the pension, but of course we 
had to- obey orders. There were many before us to be 
received by His Holiness. When at length we were 
admitted into his presence we found a French Count still 
lingering to receive some final messages to the Countess 
and the children. This glimpse into an intimate and 
cordial friendship with that family over in France, had 
the instantaneous effect of humbling my spirits, and I 
began to ask myself: “What right indeed have I to be 
here? We are taking up the precious time of the venera¬ 
ble Pontiff, now so old and feeble, when so many devout 
Catholics have sought in vain for such an interview.” 
Our Minister had told me of his fruitless efforts in their 
behalf. Yet I had dragged my son from his books, from 
his beloved studies of ancient, historical Rome, inflicting 
upon him that ignoble costume, and all to gratify my 
curiosity and pride—was that right ? We knelt at the feet 
of the man before whom the proudest potentates of 
Europe humbly bent their heads. His piercing black eyes 


287 


Through Old Eyes 

contrasted strikingly with the startling whiteness of his 
face. Those wonderful eyes were all that retained the 
appearance of youth and vigor in that frail body, clothed 
in spotless white. He asked me of my family, of the 
husband, and children I had lost, till the deep emotions 
agitating my mind rose tumultuously and I fell to sob¬ 
bing. I answered the Pope’s questions in Italian. I 
knew French infinitely better but because I was taking 
daily lessons in Italian the French refused to come to 
my tongue. My son, of course, spoke French. When 
at last I recovered my composure I glanced side-ways 
at Sedley. His head was bent low, the Harvard coat had 
fallen down his back, revealing all the ghastly shabbiness 
of that waistcoat with its deep fold pinned up to the 
base of the neck, and the bulging front where no vestige 
of the original silk lining remained, only the stiffening 
which resembles so nearly certain kinds of coffee sacking. 
I could only hope that His Holiness didn’t notice, or 
perhaps he was accustomed to boarding house clothes 
and didn’t mind, but the two high dignitaries standing 
on either side, what did they think? We returned late 
in the afternoon hungry, tired, depressed, laughter dead 
within me. 

After an absence of about fourteen years we returned 
to the United States. This should have been the most 
joyful event in our lives, but I was overwhelmed by the 
discovery that an agent whom I had trusted had specu¬ 
lated with and lost all the capital confided to his care. 
This money represented what my brother had earned for 
me on the plantation, the life insurance left by my hus- 


288 A New World 

band and my own economies during the fourteen years 
we spent abroad. 

It was more especially the thought of those economies, 
the privations I had voluntarily endured in order to found 
a home in America to which my family could come, as 
of right, and where I could also gather my friends about 
me, which filled me for a while with bitterness, but again 
my brother came to my rescue. The plantation was still 
there and no debts. By his wise management and very 
happy investments I was again put on my feet financially. 
I have suffered much in my life but to have had such a 
brother has been my compensation and my consolation. 

Ludlow Simmonds, only child of Major and Mrs. A. 
P. Simmonds of New York, died in the summer of 1921 
of typhoid fever, at the age of seventeen and a half. 
The following letter was written by one of my grandsons 
to Major Simmonds on hearing of the loss of this 
precious and gifted boy. Written in the first moment of 
spontaneous grief, his letter touched me so deeply that 
I introduce it here that the names and memories of those 
two dear boys may be associated together in these 
Reminiscences: 


Hotel Fleurus, Paris, 
August 7, 1921. 

My dear Mr. Simmonds: 

Your letter about the death of your son, Suds, has 
moved me beyond words. He was not only a friend of 
mine but my best friend, the finest lad I ever knew. He 
was really a brother to me. At camp he and I confided 


289 


Through Old Eyes 

our inmost secrets to one another. We often discussed 
such subjects as religion and marriage, and I might well 
say that I never knew a purer or more wholesome-minded 
lad in my life. One day Suds came up to me and told 
me a simple confession of how he had forgotten, or 
rather let slide by, an affair about a bicycle which he had 
checked to school, but had not paid the bill on. The 
latter had been forwarded to you and he showed me the 
letter which you wrote him to explain the bill. Suds was 
not the kind of lad to let things slide by, any old way. 
His intimate confession went straight to my heart and 
one of my most beautiful thoughts is the fact that I 
advised Suds to confess everything to you which, of 
course, he did. A few days later your answer came. I 
was out playing “catch” on the front porch. The lad 
called me aside and with trembling fingers he tore open 
the letter. A few moments later he was hugging me 
and leaping around for joy. “Good old Dad!” he ex¬ 
claimed, “There was never a better father in the world!” 

All my best camp memories are centered on Suds. He 
was the whole spirit of the camp, entering into all its 
activities and always the leader in whatever the work or 
pleasure may have been. Everyone who approached Suds 
felt the love of good fun which seemed to radiate from 
him. No midnight feast, no game, no trip was complete 
without him. Always taking the chief role in the Satur¬ 
day night entertainments as well as on the hikes, where 
boys’ real character is shown as nowhere else. It is last 
year’s Mansfield trip that I have in mind. Unable to take 
the Senior trip, Suds had gone on the second trip with 


290 


A New World 


the Juniors. We all remember how he carried the smaller 
boys’ packs, and kept up the spirit with his good humor, 
although he had a big blood blister on his heel. 

A thousand memories of similar acts and incidents 
crowd into my mind at the mention of Suds’ name. 

You spoke in your letter of giving us a token in re¬ 
membrance of Suds. I should like to tell you, Mr. Sim- 
monds, of a verbal token which Suds gave me himself. 
It was the day of the final banquet at camp. We were 
cutting down a spruce tree for the decorations. Suds 
stopped chopping and said to me: “John, do you know, 
if my parents were to die, whom I would choose for my 
guardians?” I replied that I could not imagine. “Your 
Father and Mother,” was Suds’ answer. 

I can only send you and Mrs. Simmonds the deepest 
heartfelt sympathy. 


John. 


MY FINAL WORDS 


As I am now more than eighty years of age and of 
feeble health, I feel it my duty, in view of my approaching 
end, to leave to my descendants some simple rules for 
the bringing up of their children, so that they may become 
worthy men and women. “Make your children repeat 
each day in their evening prayer the request that God 
may make them truthful and honest. This gives a 
religious sanction, the strongest of all, to the virtues of 
truthfulness and honesty. Never deceive your children, 
nor fail to keep scrupulously every promise made to them. 
Exact from each child a rigorous respect for the property 
of his brothers and sisters, nor force him in any way 
whatever to share his possessions with them, for it is 
our first duty to teach justice in the nursery, from which 
alone true generosity can spring. Never permit cruelty 
to animals, nor allow a child to treat servants with 
disrespect.” 

Mary S. Ware. 

New Orleans, 

March, 1923. 


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